


Dumbasses in Love

by BigEvilShine



Category: Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:24:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7146416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigEvilShine/pseuds/BigEvilShine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Rhys make a deal to fake an engagement for reasons. Of course these corporate douchebags with the emotional depth of a thimble don't realize what the hell they're getting themselves into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It started with a series of unlikely events and two men who were always hungry for corporate advancement. Backstabbing, manipulation, and cold blooded murder were pushed aside for an afternoon of drunken commiseration that ended with an under the table agreement and an announcement the following morning that left the media reeling. 

Handsome Jack now had a proper omega fiancé, his personal assistant. 

Rhys was happy with their deal, enjoying the perks of the faux engagement. Everyone on the station stopped treating him like someone willing to spread his legs like butter, his reputation now included a perfunctory rule that he wasn’t someone to fuck with unless his aggressor wanted to get put on Jack’s shit list, and his boss was finally able to chill the hell out. Jack had never openly admitted it but the ever growing amount of company mergers and corporate politicking now involving marriage and bonding proposals was really getting under his skin. Every other meeting with a rival company now sported at least one high ranking omega whose scent was sweetened on a fast approaching heat and the fertile tang of someone that had gone off birth control. Like hell was he about to get duped into knocking up some dumbass omega. By publicizing his and Rhys’s engagement he was subverting anymore honeytraps headed his way. 

So, for the most part, it was a damn good deal. Sure, for appearance’s sake Jack had to commit to a few public appearances where he doted on Rhys. They were a major waste of time, these obnoxious little dates, but not as bad as Jack had feared. Rhys was still the same annoying asshole he was in the office, the kid loved shit talking and Jack would be a liar if he said he didn’t get on with him. Just now a little PDA was involved. Which, okay, the first time he’d palmed his PA’s ass he’d pretty much heard angels singing, so it wasn’t like that was even a downer? 

It was all going great, unexpectedly. And then Rhys’s heat day popped up on his calendar. 

“Sooo, sugar,” Jack sat slack in his chair, ankle crossed over his knee and one foot on the ground to gently spin the chair from side to side. Rhys barely glanced up from the tablet he was sorting through, pulling up the files that required Jack’s attention and trashing the ones that didn’t. Apparently that was the only acknowledgement Jack would be getting so he continued on, ignoring the vague miffed feeling. “Can’t help but notice you penciled in your _personal time_ on my schedule,” he bunny eared the term. 

Rhys rolled his eyes, setting the tablet in the to-do pile on the CEO’s desk. “I did. We need to figure out how to handle this now before my yearly comes around.” Like most job oriented omegas in today’s day and age, Rhys was on suppressants that limited all his heats to one or two days every two months. In order to get his prescription refilled at the end of the year he’d have to endure one heated week without suppressants, something doctors required that had something to do with resetting and repairing the body’s hormones and fertility or whatever. 

“ _How to handle this_?” Jack snorted, smiling with too much canine. Rhys rolled his eyes. 

“Jack, I’m not going to do a solo heat and if I use an agency that’s going to raise questions about our relationship,” Rhys said, patience writ in every word. Jack blinked, resting his chin in his hand. The kid had a point. If it ever came out that their engagement was for anything other than love then he’d be besieged by honeytraps again, and no self respecting alpha would let their omega endure a heat with anyone else. Still, taking an entire day off to baby his PA through a heat? Jack only got around thirty days a month to keep Hyperion from dropping out of its number one spot as weapons manufacturer in the six galaxies. It was a friggin’ race to beat the odds every time. 

“Can you, I unno, just sit on my dick all day in here?” Jack gestured around his office. Maybe he could bend Rhys over the desk and fuck his brains out then spend the time knotting working on his computer. That was efficient. 

Rhys’s face soured. “Jack, no! Do, do you – do you not know anything about omegas?” he spluttered. “This place has a thousand scents in here, half of them alphas and the rest are stress and blood and – “

Jack threw up his hands, groaning, “alright, _alriiight_ I hear ya. Can’t have your sensitive little omega brain frying.” Rhys calmed a bit, grumbling something sassy about omega drop under his breath that Jack had the decency to ignore. So what if Jack didn’t know what the crap an omega drop was? Didn’t mean he wasn’t awesome at sex. No one could compare to his sex skills. If he had a skill tree his sex skill set would be, like, completely maxed out. Nobody would compare, his friggin’ body double may have the same equipment but even Timothy couldn’t –

Jack blinked, a slow smile crawling over his lips. 

_Timtams._

“I ever tell you how much of a genius I am, baby? ‘Cause I am so smart as crap,” Jack grinned, plopping both feet to the ground and spinning his chair. 

Rhys raised his eyebrows, “I guess that means you have an answer to our problem?”

“Yup! Don’t you worry your pretty little head cupcake; daddy’s got it all taken care of.”

“Please stop calling yourself that.”

“Pfft, like you’re not into that kinda thing. You _freak_.”


	2. Chapter 2

Timothy was going to explode. All that blood rushing to his face? Yeah, his head was about to pop like an egg in a microwave. 

What Jack and his fiancé, no wait that was a huge lie! The guy was a personal assistant who was just as conniving as everyone else that spent too much time around Jack. Anyway, what the two falsely engaged corporate tools were proposing was just, just, it had to be a joke, right?

“This is a joke right? Ahaha, poor dumb Timmers, he’s such a kidder, wait ‘til ya see the look on his face kiddo, ahaha…ha?” Timothy tried to play along, glancing between the two men before him. Jack wasn’t amused, just about bored to death in his enormous stupid chair while his personal assistant sat on the edge of his desk, head tilted curiously at the body double. 

“Yeah, nope. You’re gonna fuck his brains out as me, keep up appearances and all that crap. You're the only guy I kinda sorta trust not to blow the lid on this whole operation yadda yadda, don't fuck it up,” Jack shrugged, actually picking at his nails, probably at dried blood sticking around his cuticles. Timothy swallowed dryly, briefly looking to Rhys. Well, at least he wasn’t bad looking. The tall and svelte type with a cute face, and if Jack’s enthusiastic descriptions over ECHOcomm were trustworthy, Rhys also had an ass that you could bounce a quarter off. Timothy’s face heated and he quickly looked back to Jack who was grinning in his gross predatory way.

“Yeah, this is gonna work out juuust fine.”

Timothy wasn’t given much room to talk after that. Rhys updated his schedule to include the PA’s heats as well as sending him a message including his address and any details that would make the heat easier between them. Timothy did his best to pay attention but standing so close to Rhys he was finally near enough to pick up on his unique fragrance. Trying for discretion he flared his nostrils while Rhys looked over a tablet, picking up on the telltale marker in the younger man's scent that a heat was fast approaching. 

“You know you can just ask.”

Timothy startled, body stiffening as Rhys smirked at him. The body double flushed and opened his mouth to babble some kind of apology, only to be cut off when a gentle metal hand cupped the back of his head and firmly pressed him into the crook of Rhy’s neck. 

“We’re going to need to get comfortable with each other,” Rhys explained, turning to nuzzle into Timothy’s neck himself. Timothy sucked in a sharp breath, doing his best to choke down the embarrassing sounds that wanted to squeeze out of his throat as he felt Rhys’s warm breath stirring at his shirt collar. The younger man’s scent hit him like a wall, thick enough this close to taste and stick deep in his sinuses. Timothy clenched his jaw, eyes squeezing shut as the color warming his cheeks deepened. 

Oh _nooo_ Rhys smelled so good. 

It was masculine and warm and _fertile_ and Timothy gasped at the sudden tightness in his groin. Oh god, it was just honey and soil and hair product and wow, that all should not smell nice but oh boy did it. He just wanted to be wrapped up in it, limbs tangled and thoughts heavy and slow as he slept in sunlight surrounded by the PA's personal bouquet. It wasn’t until Rhys spoke again, laughing and complaining he was ticklish, that Timothy realized he’d been sucking in long breaths and dragging his lips and tip of his nose up and down that pretty throat, squeezing Rhys's hips to keep him near. Horrified, he wrenched back and quickly put a few steps of distance between them, somehow blushing even harder from the tips of his ears to his chest. 

“Ah, s-sorry,” Timothy said. Rhys just shrugged, the other’s indiscretion already forgotten and forgiven. The asshole across the room however had different intentions. 

“Whoa there Timmy boy! Try and keep it in your pants. I mean, not that it’s not anything I haven’t seen before,” Jack wolf whistled, breaking into giggles.

“Oh my god,” Timothy whined, covering his face and slumping into a chair. Rhys ignored them both, only offering Tim a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he wandered over to his desk and back to work. 

Jack’s cackling eventually petered out, the older man wiping away a fake tear. “So anyone want pizza? I’m gonna order pizza. With extra sausage, right Tim? You like that, right? _Sausage_? Get it? I’m saying you suck dick.”

Timothy moaned from behind his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

Heat fever could be a major bitch.

Suppressants did away with the worst but there were still times where Rhys would revert into his more primal state, unaware of his surroundings and a mixture of confused and hostile to everything around him. There had been an incident or two where he'd attacked someone that was there to help him through the day, viewing them in his hypersensitive state as a threat. It was a real bummer to wake up the following day and realize he'd bit the shit out of someone only trying to help.

The problem only cropped up when he was unfamiliar with his partner, like an agency hire or someone whose scent he wasn't used to having in his home, so he set out on a mission to make sure he and Tim weren’t going to be strangers. 

When Rhys had asked Jack if he was alright skipping their date nights and letting Tim take his place the CEO had given him a funny look, asking why the hell Rhys thought he cared. That was as much of a green light as he was going to get so Rhys and Timothy agreed to meet up, be seen publicly picking up take out together, then return to Rhys’s and spend the evening getting to know one another. 

“So, just sit anywhere. I’ll get drinks,” Rhys waved a hand towards the lounge area in his apartment. Timothy nodded, setting down the take out bags and taking a seat on the very edge of a couch cushion, his back ramrod straight as he watched Rhys from the corner of his eye. He’d been doing his best to be chill about this whole thing. 

He liked Rhys, he was a nice guy! But this situation, Jack essentially hiring him to fuck his sorta boyfriend? Timothy was having a hard time not feeling like a prostitute. The knowledge that he was only here with Rhys because at some point in the future they were going to do _the do_ wasn’t as much of an ego boost as it sounded. Tim saw it more as a pity fuck and would have tried harder to talk his way out of the ordeal if Rhy's scent wasn't thick with heat marker. It had been getting worse over the past few days, to the point Timothy had been trying to breathe through his mouth all evening in quick shallow takes, doing his best to try and quell the half chub that was spurred on by Rhy’s fragrance. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Rhys started, setting out drinks as he flopped down onto the couch next to Tim. “You don’t have anyone that’s going to get, uh, disgruntled by all this do you?” Rhys asked carefully. Timothy stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out why anyone would be mad about him eating Chinese food with Rhys before it clicked.

“Oh! No. No, I don’t have…I’m not involved with anyone. At the moment.” Tim wasn’t the smoothest guy, couple that with his aversion to the public realm thanks to his appearance and it had been a damn long while since Tim had been with anyone. Most of the time that inadvertent celibacy didn’t bother him, though there was the odd sleepless night where he fretted over dying alone and unloved. Rhys didn’t need to know any of that, though. 

“Good, good. I meant to ask earlier but between you and Jack it slipped my mind. Also, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but, how do you and Jack smell the same?” Rhys probed, avoiding eye contact in favor of digging into the food cartons.

“It’s part of the package deal of being his double. I was born beta. Had to undergo a lot of gene therapy and experimental hormone treatments to match Jack’s alpha.”

“Shit,” Rhys breathed.

"Yup," Tim shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. It was all in the past for Tim but he knew other people had trouble with it, his entire erasure of identity. Omegas were especially troubled with it, he'd come to learn. Part of their subconscious way of picking out predators versus mates was always blurred when he was around. Something so very subtle and artificial in his scent threw them off, but they never knew what or why.

Snapping apart chopsticks, popping open containers of dumplings, and lo mein both men dug in to the smorgasbord of food Rhys had ordered to satisfy his preheat cravings. The silence was awkward and thin between them, prompting Rhys to click on the TV and put on some mindless show about – look it doesn’t matter because neither of them were gonna watch it.

“So, have you and Jack…?” Tim began, stopping when Rhys choked on his beer. 

“God no! The guy might be alright for a quick lay but he doesn’t even know what an omega drop is,” Rhys shook his head, eyes wide, “the guy's a train wreck personified.”

“He doesn’t know what a drop is?!” Timothy nearly shouted, noodles slipping off his chopsticks back into the carton. That was omega 101, any form of interaction with a bonding site or full knotting would bring about a happy chemical rush in an omega, the flood of hormones was quick and would leave the body just as abruptly, often resulting in an emotional crash of rejection and depression that could last an entire day if left unattended. It was easily avoided so long as the omega's partner knew basic aftercare, which at its most complicated might involve a pint of ice cream and an hour's worth of cuddling and pets. “You’re kidding me!”

“I know! Those poor omegas he’s knotted,” Rhys said with a hand to his chest. Fully turning he found Tim’s eyes, gazing deeply and so earnestly the double felt his throat seize up. “I am so, so thankful you’re helping me with this. Did you know he suggested knotting me over his desk and doing his work between rounds?”

Time gasped, “ _no_.”

It turned out all either of them needed was a solid session of shit talking to break the ice. When they cracked open more beer their bitching got worse and less comprehensible. By the end of the night Tim was lying face down on Rhys’s stomach, purring, while Rhys ran his fingers through the alpha's hair. Rhys squeezed the torso between his legs with his thighs. Timothy grunted, shifting to peer one blue eye up at Rhys. 

“You can stay tonight. If you want. For sleeping,” Rhys yawned. Tim hummed, giving a lazy roll of his hips into the couch cushions, indulging in the friction it brought to his still interested cock. 

“I’d like to. Do that. Yeah,” Tim nodded against Rhys’s belly causing the other to splutter and laugh, trying to shove the heavier man off. Tim grinned, liking the pretty sound from the pretty smelling omega.

Pushing his face down into Rhys’s shirt Timothy blew a raspberry, big hands squeezing over slim hips. With a shout Rhys shoved with his metal arm, throwing Tim down onto the shaggy white rug beside the couch. Bubbling happy little chuckles Rhys got to his feet and patted Tim’s chest as he wobbled his way to the bedroom, yelling out what each door led to as he passed them like a drunken real estate agent. Tim sat up, plopping his chin on the coffee table and watching the younger man sort of fall through the door he presumed led to the bedroom, something fizzy and warm filling his chest. 

Yeah. 

Rhys was alright. 

Tim made to follow but thought better of it and stopped in the bathroom, fumbling with his zipper and popping open the button and belt buckle securing his pants. With an awkward grip Tim palmed his hardening flesh and shivered, watching himself in Rhys’s bathroom mirror. 

Timothy didn’t think of himself as a pervert but he certainly couldn't deny that he was tugging one out while hidden in his friend’s bathroom. Still, it was for the better. If he tried to sleep next to Rhys as he was now, all sweet omega and alluring scent rubbing a spectacular ass up against Tim’s family jewels? Stupid decisions would be made. He fumbled through any drawers he could reach, eventually finding a bottle of baby oil and slathering his hand slick enough his strokes wouldn’t leave him raw.

“Oooh, yeah. Yup,” Timothy gasped, hips stuttering forward into his tight fist, “that’s g- “ the rest of his solo dirty talk evaporated into a throaty whine. God, he could still smell Rhys in the air, in his clothes, on his skin. Swiping a thumb over his shiny glans Timothy slid his other hand down to palm his balls, thighs trembling as the telltale tightening in his abdomen began. 

His higher functioning mind understood this situation with Rhys wasn't special, but oh how he wanted otherwise. The chemically induced alpha in him may have began as an unnatural element but it had long since fully blossomed into a part of him, demanding a mate and pups more aggressively as the years wore on. And Rhys was such a pretty omega, his bonding pheromones were so perfect and he had been _so_ nice to Timothy. 

Yet half the time they’d spent together Tim had done little more than clench his fists and wish he could tear off those stupidly expensive tailored trousers, seat himself snug and warm and widely knotted in that pert ass. Fuck, he wanted to fill him up, over stimulate him until Rhys was a quivering crying mess and Tim could kiss away those tears. A few more frantic pumps accompanied by nearly pained cries had him finishing hard over his hand, cum dripping down his knuckles and spilling over the sink. Clean up was a blur of panted breaths and wads of toilet paper haphazardly dabbing up his mess. Red faced and ashamed Tim finished hiding the evidence before hunting down Rhys’s bedroom and sliding under the covers behind him. 

Waking up the next morning was slow and soft. Both men had alcohol dry brain aches and an aversion to any light brighter than a candle, but Tim was cuddled and cuddling and he was very happy with that situation. Timothy had caged Rhys’s upper torso up in his arms against his chest, resting his chin on the younger man’s head while his hips had rolled to smother his bed partner’s. Timothy was slow to full lucidity, when it finally soaked through his foamy brain he could barely bring himself to be embarrassed. He already knew he was clingy! Timothy was a cuddler, was that so wrong? As if in answer Rhys chose that moment to sigh, breath stirring Tim’s chest hair, burying his face in deep between the doppelganger’s pecs and give his waist a squeeze. Tim smiled stupidly, head flopping to bury in the too fluffy pillows and face warming up. 

Oh jeez. Rhys was cute. 

It took a few hours, a few texts Tim ignored lighting up his ECHO, but eventually Rhys’s ECHO started to blow up with calls and messages until Rhys sat up with the speed of a snapped piano wire and answered with a sharp, “ _what?!_ ” It became obvious who was on the other end of the line so Tim slunk into the bathroom to wash his face and steal a few sips of mouthwash, finger combing his hair while he swished. Rhys knocked on the door not too long after, poking his head in and squinting under the fluorescent lights. 

“Hey.”

“Mmph.” Tim still had a mouthful of mouthwash.

Rhys smiled a little. “It’s supposed to be my day off, I thought we could try out that new sushi bar but nope,” he threw up his hands in a huff, now fully lounging against the door frame and giving Tim quite a bit of bare chest to ogle. “Jack’s a giant baby and needs me to come in.” 

Tim nodded as he hunkered down over the sink and spat, a little embarrassed about doing something kind of icky in front of Rhys but the alcoholic burn was starting to numb his tongue. Rhys didn’t say anything, idly scratched at the concentric circles on his neck. Tim focused on sipping from the faucet, spitting the rest of the mouthwash out, and definitely not on Rhys’s skin and how it smelled like honey in the morning or the tight midnight blue boxer briefs that looked to be printed with a subtle galaxy pattern. Tim practically heard Jack’s voice in his head snickering about an ass that was outta this world.

“Actually, I have an idea that might expedite this whole thing,” Rhys broke into his thoughts. “We can trade clothes that smell like each another. Make it less likely I won’t recognize you and panic when the heat fever hits.”

“ _Yes_.” Timothy was out of his jacket in a split second, impatiently tugging off all the stupid layers his Handsome Jack costume required and shoving his Hyperion jumper in Rhys’s arms. With thanks Rhys pulled the worn garment on, head of messy earthy smelling hair popping out of the slightly stretched collar. 

“Hold on a second, I’ll go find you something. Hopefully in your size…” Rhys disappeared for a bit, giving Tim enough time to control the surge of pleasure and dominance swelling up in him at the sight of the omega wrapped up in his too broad sweater. He kinda hated that part of him, that weirdly wonderful sense of ownership that sometimes cropped up around omegas. It wasn’t always like that, before the transition into alpha he’d never had to do breathing exercises to keep from jumping omegas that smelled too good. Not that he minded his newish ability to knot, those milder but extended orgasms that could last forty-five minutes coupled with the satisfaction of fulfilling a primal need to breed? Just, damn.

Rhys popped back into the bathroom a minute later carrying a Hyperion branded hoodie. Tim pulled it on without a word, subtly sniffing at the collar as he straightened it out, pulling at where the fabric stuck a little too closely around his shoulders. 

“It’s the baggiest thing I own, hope it works.”

“I love it.” Tim blinked. “I – I mean it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Aren’t you supposed to be heading up to Jack’s office?” Oh god, did his voice just crack?

Rhys smiled, “that asshole can wait a few minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chap but i'm sure u free loaders don't mind. OH, and if you can't tell yet this fic's gonna have some sex. idk, 'm not v good at writing the sex but BOY DO I ENJOY TRYING TO
> 
> next chap: jealous asshole can't figure why or what he's jealous about.
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](http://bigevilshine.tumblr.com) if you wanna yell at me and look at my blog. or just yell. listen, we all need to scream nonsensically every now and then. i work in customer service. i understand.


	4. Chapter 4

_Holy shit_ was Jack bored. 

Hyperion’s CEO had a circadian rhythm to match a crack addict’s and that meant he’d come into the office hours before the station’s day cycle started. He’d spent the majority of it fucking around, calling up certain executives and scientists to harass and finishing up any paper work Rhys had left him. 

Jack eventually found himself sitting at Rhys’s desk, yanking open all the drawers and looking for something to amuse himself. What was he expecting? Maybe a dildo or something. Unfortunately there was nothing so entertaining and Jack ended up kicking the drawers shut with a huff. Not even one porn mag. 

God. Was Rhys really that vanilla?

Nah, couldn’t be. Jack had a sense for these things and he could practically smell the kink on the guy. He’d agreed way too easily into boning Timtams for it to be otherwise. Speaking of which, those two morons were supposed to have went on a date or something last night. Bored and feeling as intrusive as ever Jack shot off a few messages to his double asking how it had gone. When Tim didn’t answer Jack threw back his head with a groan, kicking away from Rhys’s desk and spinning lazily through the office. Checking the time and noting he wouldn’t be needed anywhere for a few hours yet, Jack hit up Rhys’s number with obnoxious questions in the same vein as the ones he’d bothered Tim with. It took a few calls but eventually his PA answered, his voice all cracked and rough from just waking up.

When Rhys finally walked his perky ass into the office Jack was ready to organize a mandatory fight club in the mechanical engineering department just to have something to do.

“Sugar, sweetness, cuddly little beetle bug!” Jack cheered, throwing a stack of papers over his shoulder as he trotted down the dais to greet his omega. Rhys wasn’t amused; face purposefully schooled into an uncaring mask even as jack lifted him into a bear hug and swung him about. Rhys hung in Jack’s arm limply, like the stubborn wet noodle he truly was deep inside.

“What was so important I had to come in. On. My. Day. _Off_.”

Jack abruptly dropped the brat, mildly pleased by the squawk of outrage as Rhys stumbled. Wow, first thing in the morning and already with the spicy attitude.

“What? You want me to hire someone to cover you? ‘Cause uh, that shit’s called getting your ass fired, twinkle tits.” Rhys usually wasn’t this snippy when jack inevitably needed a distraction and harassed the kid into coming in on his off days. Actually, looking closer, Rhys wasn’t looking as fresh to death as the fashionable little fruit cake always was.

He had mild bags under his eyes, hair that was wilder than what Jack was used to, and now that he focused on it Jack wasn’t picking up on the omega’s fancy mint and citrus shampoo. It wasn’t the hair product he knew and loved but there was something nice in the kid’s fragrance, something familiar.

“Jack what the hell,” Rhys dead panned, leaning back as his boss suddenly crowded into his personal space.

“Hold still a minute.”

“Stop being weir-”

“Where the heck did you get this?” Jack snapped, reaching past Rhys’s jacket and snagging a handful of sweater. His sweater. Confused, Jack patted at his chest to be sure he was wearing his, which he was, so how… _oh_.

“Cupcake. I didn’t bring Tim into the picture so you could slut it up for the poor kid all willy nilly.”

Rhys balked, wriggling and trying his best to escape Jack without stretching out Timothy’s sweater. “What? I haven’t slept with him yet I’m just trying to get used to his scent so I borrowed this,” he tried to explain. Jack wasn’t convinced; frankly surprised Rhys would try and lie to his face like that.

“Seriously? I can hardly smell anything but Timmers and sex on you.”

Rhys ceased his struggling, instead flushing a little. “I’m pretty sure he, ah, _took care_ of himself in the bathroom before we went to sleep last night.” Rhys had smelled the musk of spent seed the moment he’d entered the bathroom that morning but unlike Jack he was a decent enough person not to bring it up. That and Timothy seemed the type capable of blacking out from embarrassment.

Jack groaned, releasing Rhys in favor of dragging a hand down his masked face, “Frikkin’ idiot is so embarrassing.” Even Rhys gave a reluctant nod as he darted around Jack and to his desk where he paused before sitting down, frowning at the furniture before pinning an accusatory look at Jack. The older man’s shoulders stiffened on reflex, his head tilting so he could stare challengingly at his feisty PA.

“I didn’t do diddly.”

“I know you snooped. Your smell’s all over everything and your ugly dad sneakers scuffed the gloss.” Rhys pointed to an offending spot.

“How dare you say that you little shit these shoes are orthopedic.”

It was as per usual after that, barbs traded with vigor until the first meeting of the day came along and saw both men seated in a lifeless conference room. Jack didn’t always hate these stupid updates or proposal plans, he liked hearing about the bizarre shit the geeks in R&D were cooking up and how much money it was going to make him.

This meeting should have been keeping his attention, it was a branding re-release for a weapons line that had been created using plans stolen from Maliwan, but Jack couldn’t focus on anything but his stupid personal assistant. Said nerd wasn’t doing anything unusual, actually taking notes down that would end up forwarded to Jack’s inbox. It was the way the kid smelled, like the two of them had done the nasty, that was distracting as all get out.

Jack knew all he was picking up on was the lingering musk of Tim’s jerk off session but it was a bit more interesting since that’s what jack’s jizz smelled like as well. Interesting in the _he needed to adjust the way he was sitting so his boner wouldn’t be so damn obvious_ kind of way.

The situation wasn’t helped in how Tim’s stupid jumper was soaked in their shared scent and mixing with rhys’s heat marked one to make a bouquet that freaking dripped domesticity and sex. The slow kind though, the kind that started in the morning when neither participant was fully awake and lasted hours. Full of lazy kisses and licks and thrusts so indulgently prolonged it’d leave them both shuddering at every centimeter of friction.

Jack had to cross his legs, folding his hands over his lap. _Shit_.

It had been a hot minute since Jack had bothered getting laid. That was it. Had nothing to do with Rhys other than the kid smelling great. Totally.

Half an hour later Jack had mellowed and the conference ended, everyone bustling out and eager to be away from one another and their CEO. Then some brain dead alpha bumped into Rhys, bouncing the slimmer omega back against Jack’s chest, and the fucking hormonal siren sang in Jack’s blood.

There wasn’t a damn thought that blinked through his head as he wrapped a broad arm around the kid, yanking him against his chest as he bared his fangs and snarled like a fucking savage at the alpha. There were startled yelps and panic fraught scents from the crowd as everyone bolted, clogging up the doorway and tripping over one another in the perfect little metaphor for the corporate rat race. It was only a few seconds before everyone had split leaving Jack breathing loudly through his mouth and holding too tightly onto Rhys.

“Jack, he just jostled me!” Rhys exclaimed, pink cheeked and embarrassed. Jack growled and sniffed Rhys’s neck on instinct, searching for a sign of injury or fear. The kid was ticklish though and squirmed, somehow pulling a jelly leg and ducking out of Jack’s arms. Jack cleared his throat, putting on a show of rolling his eyes while his breathing and hammering heart evened out. Okay, that was maybe a little uncalled for, but it wasn’t like Rhys needed to know that.

“Baby, we’re engaged, remember? You really think I’d be calm about some shit sucking alpha touching my stuff?” Jack went for the keeping up appearances angle and could see that satisfied Rhys, hell, even Jack almost bought it.

Would have been a lot more believable if his dick wasn’t pressing up against his zipper, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like writing jack. i think i make him cuss too much? idk, i'm trying to channel "swear censorship in movies adapted for tv" when he speaks 
> 
> next chap: a montage of tim's awkward attempts at courting rhys and jack running into the scene and slam dunking the chocolates and flowers out of tim's hands 
> 
> this series is so stupid but it's fun to write and ur comments are warm lil candies in my cold barren heart <3


	5. Chapter 5

Tim was procrastinating. 

He was at a crossroads, facing a moment in his life that demanded action.

And he was in the dark under his blankets playing on his ECHO.

While he tapped at a mindless aquarium virtual reality game, feeding pixel pellets to digital fish, he was internally screaming about the impending heat that was now only six days out. Not even a week from now and Tim would be on top and inside of the omega that wouldn't get out of his head. The double shimmied under the covers, tight hoodie rolling up around his ribs and providing enough slack for Timothy to nose under the collar and pull up to cover half his face. It had been two or three days since he and Rhys had traded tops and Tim hadn’t really taken the borrowed hoodie off.

And that was part of the problem. 

Tim had a _crush_. 

He knew he had a crush, all his life he’d been quick to develop little addictions to people. Most of the time it was fine, he’d blush and stammer and ruin his chances before the other party even realized what was going on. But this time Rhys wasn’t going to brush him off. Maybe it was his lovesick head but Timothy dared to think Rhys actually wanted him around. He’d basically said he was grateful Tim was going to fuck him through his heat. So that was progress, kind of?

Except now that Tim realized he had a crush he wanted more than just a day of marathon sex. He wanted – _he wanted dates_ ; with flowers and chocolates and hand holding in spring time. Tim wanted to spend more nights cuddling around Rhys, waking up perfumed in the omega’s scent and nuzzling sleepy kisses over Rhys’s ticklish throat. Just the other day when Jack had Tim take his place sitting in on a weapon’s test Tim had caught himself ignoring experimental grenades in favor of fantasizing about preparing a home cooked meal to share with Rhys. 

So, yeah, Tim had it bad. 

And he had _no idea what to do about it_. 

If, hypothetically, Rhys would reciprocate Timothy’s feelings, where did that leave Jack? Tim still wasn’t sure just what the relationship between the CEO and PA was. Jack wasn’t a guy that let people get close but he seemed to like having Rhys around, and he’d hatched this bizarre engagement plan with Rhys. That had to mean something. Right? Like, people didn’t just do that kind of romantic comedy bullshit in real life. But that line of thought always crashed into the fact that Jack was the one encouraging Tim to sleep with Rhys. 

Maybe it was a weird kinky thing. Timothy remembered Jack liked to call himself daddy. 

Someone who was into that? Capable of anything. 

Tim’s tapping ceased as he stared at the ECHO screen. In his mind’s eye he reexamined the corkboard pinned with evidence and crime scene photos of Rhys wearing Tim’s jumper and Jack sticking his tongue out between two fingers set in a V. Slowly he traced the red string connecting the pieces leading to the conclusive answer to Tim’s predicament. 

Jack likely had unsaid intentions about this ordeal but he had been nothing but encouraging, even pushy. Tim had the all clear. Curling his toes, Timothy emitted a high pitched wheeze. 

This was it. 

He was going to put _the moves_ on Rhys. 

Kicking off the blankets Tim straightened his clothes and grabbed his wallet, pausing to make sure his face and hair were looking okay, and heading out into Helios at large. He was a man with a plan, a shakily constructed plan with the stability of a newborn giraffe, but he had a plan and that was a pretty good starting point.

# …

Rhys was hanging around the waiting area outside Jack’s office, occasionally making idle chatter with Meg as he worked on his ECHOeye and palm display. She hardly had time to speak between shooting off emails and taking calls which Rhys could relate to as he sent off a number of last minute messages of his own, apologizing for the inconvenience and rescheduling the rest of Jack’s meetings for the day. There would be a few pompous big wigs that would reply back expressing their dissatisfaction but beyond blowing hot air out of their asses there wasn’t anything that could be done. 

Jack had found a corporate spy and was picking the traitor’s brain for information on their network, maybe literally, hence why Rhys was out here with Meg. Jack was fond of really working over anyone he felt betrayed him and honestly anyone who wanted to play Hyperion was kind of asking for it. When he riled himself up into a state of bloodlust like that Jack was done for the day business wise, more likely than not to just shoot someone than sit through more than two seconds of business chatter. 

It kind of sucked for Rhys who would always end up behind on work, only going back into the office after the torture session ended, the body disposal team took care of the carnage, and finally the janitors came through for a final sweep. It sucked, took all day, and Rhys had to sit in a shitty lobby chair that made his ass numb. Groaning, Rhys stood, stretching out his stiff back and shoulders. He was giving it another half hour before he left early out of sheer boredom. That was before a hesitant tap fluttered at his shoulder. Turning, he popped a smile at the familiar face.

“Timothy! Hey – _mmph_ ,” Rhys was just about slapped in the face by a bouquet of flowers. Taking Tim’s hands in his he moved the flowers down until he wasn’t drowning in velvet petals and one of the only fresh scents on Helios. The hands under his were clammy and subtly shaking as Rhys inspected the bouquet, ECHOeye informing him the mix of lavenders and blue were primarily hydrangeas. Looking up Rhys realized Tim hadn’t said a word. The man stood utterly still, eyes wide and pupils blown out until his heterochromia was nearly imperceptible. 

“Tim. You alright?”

“Wh- huh?” the double twitched. It was another moment before he seemed to realize he was supposed to respond. Releasing a high pitched giggle Tim’s hold on the bouquet wavered, pulling the fluffy purple flowers back towards his chest in a weak bid to hide. “I’m fine, yup, totally great?” he chuckled, skin looking suspiciously pale and damp where the mask didn’t cover. 

Rhys nodded slowly, gently rubbing his thumbs over the alpha’s tight fists in a bid to drain the stress from his scent. “Are those for me?” Rhys prompted, pointedly nodding to the bouquet when Timothy’s eyebrows screwed up in confusion. He stuttered then shoved said flowers into Rhys’s chest, nearly knocking the wind out of him as petals fluttered astray.

Catching his balance Rhys cradled the bouquet. It wasn’t overly large, but bigger than anything Rhys had gotten from a prospective lover. The way Tim stood there, not saying a word and staring with glassy eyes, Rhys realized Tim had probably never given anyone flowers. It would have been cute if the double’s panic wasn’t so tangible it was beginning to worry Rhys that Tim might just pass out. Taking his hand, and ignoring the squeak Timothy made, Rhys led them to a sitting area furthest from Meg and had the alpha sit beside him on the loveseat. Resting the flowers over his thighs Rhys gave a reassuring smile and squeezed Tim’s hand. 

“Deep breaths Tim. Don’t freak out, I love it. I haven’t got flowers since my cybernetic surgeries, this is just, wow,” Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. “Really great of you.”

“Thanks!” Tim yelped. “I mean, y-you’re welcome. I just wanted to, uh, let you know…how…” he strangled the rest of that thought before it could get out as a microcosm of panicky thoughts told him not to let Rhys know how serious he was about him. It would come off as desperate and super clingy, would totally kill his chances. Timothy was pretty sure on that front. He’d read a lot of young adult fiction in his life. Knew all about relationships and stuff. 

“Are you free after work today?” Oh god, he said it. He said it and Rhys heard it and there was no going back. What if he’d misread the signs? Did Rhys even give a damn about him? What if he was only being nice because he felt bad for Tim, about his situation as Jack’s double? Or maybe even Jack had ordered Rhys to – 

Fingers grazed up the back of his neck, manicured nails eliciting sparks across Tim’s scalp as Rhys ran his fingers through his hair. Timothy sighed, panic in his spine melting out and soothing his taught muscles, willingly slumping to rest his cheek on Rhys’s shoulder as the younger man pulled him close. He whined, burying his face in the collar of Rhys’s jacket and – oh, there was his sweater. Subtly sniffing, Tim smiled goofily at their intermingled scents.

“First, yes. Second, are you good dude?” Rhys snorted, smirking a bit. Tim made a pitiful sound, nodding and keeping his face hidden, this time out of embarrassment. Rhys continued his idle petting, honestly flattered. That Tim was still wearing Rhys’s hoodie, and judging by the scent permeating the fabric had been for a while, was doing all kinds of great things for his ego. 

“Fine, fine, I’m good. Just, need a minute to, y’know, not pass out. Sooo… what do you want to do later?” Tim asked then promptly shrieked when a big bloody hand slammed down on his shoulder and sent him sprawling against the arm of the loveseat. 

“You two girls gonna have a ladies night out? Sounds fun,” Jack sing songed, hopping over the back of the couch and plopping between his double and PA, throwing an arm around each. Rhys was the first to recover, emitting a shrill sound of indignation and lurching to his feet to helplessly flounder at the blood smears wrapping around his clothes. Jack rolled his eyes as he spread out over the loveseat, knees flopping apart like a whore and squishing Tim up against the furniture’s arm. 

“Get over yourself princess, we both know you live in that shithole apartment because the closet’s big enough to fit half the friggin’ station’s wardrobe,” Jack scoffed. Tim privately thought Rhys’s apartment was one of the ritziest he’d ever slept over at. Rhys growled and set around gathering his things, pulling on his messenger bag and moving to retrieve the flowers that had fallen by the wayside. 

But.

Naturally.

Because Jack was the worst possible kind of person,

Jack snatched the bouquet up just before Rhys could, bloody fingers smudging red over the lavender petals and staining the silk wrapping the stems. Tim felt his entire chest, heart, lungs, stomach, and everything else solidify into a single chunk of panicked statue. Rhys must have seen it as he was by his side in a second, a solid hand on Tim’s shoulder and the circling of a thumb sitting as a reminder for Tim to breathe. 

“Uh oh, what’s this Rhysie? Somebody wants a piece of my hot PA’s bubble butt?” Jack teased, grinning all canines and eyes cutting between Tim and Rhys with malicious intent. Tim wheezed. _Oh god he knew_. 

“Okay one, how dare you say that about my ass. I’d ask you not be such an asshole but it’s a waste of breath,” Rhys grit though his teeth. Jack just gave him the sweetest smile with all the innocence of fresh baked cinnamon bread while ripping petals from the bouquet and scattering them over the marble floor. 

“C’mon, you know I had a rough day. Indulge ol’ Jack for a bit.” 

“They’re mine. No, they’re Rhys’s. I got them for him,” Tim swallowed; every nerve in his body seemed to be bunching under Rhys’s hand and siphoning the strength he needed. Or at least giving him a distraction from the blood smeared all over Jack’s mask and clumping in his hair.

“We’re going on a date,” Rhys supplied, nearly stopping Tim’s heart. He’d used the word, _the date word!_

“That so sugar cube?” Jack asked, snapping a stem and tossing a flower bunch aside. “What’re you two love birds gonna do on your date?” When Jack said the word it sounded like hot glass and venom. He was…mad? About the date? But, but Tim was so sure that Jack wouldn’t mind and –

“Really Jack? I just got him to chill out” Rhys groaned, feeling Tim go all tight and nervous under his palm. Jack just made a kissy face in his direction, tossing in a wink for good measure. “Anyway I figure we’ll just order in and watch something at my place.”

“Sounds good. What’re’ya kiddos in the mood for? I’m thinkin’ Thai. _Ohoho buddy_ , I used to think that shit was gross but then I had this one thing, what the hell was it called? I unno, doesn’t matter. It was this like, this good ass rice stuff that was all full of cashews and there were these little flowers you could eat but that’s not even the good part. Get this shit, are you listening to me honey butt? You’re gonna want to hear this. Maybe even sit down, hell I dunno. It was all served in a hollowed out pineapple, like it was cut straight through the spiky bit at the top and tilted on its side like some delicious fruit food boat. I know right? _Insane_.” Jack finished, already on his ECHO searching for Thai joints to hit up. 

Rhys and Tim exchanged looks. Rhys, half covered in blood and in need of a shower while still wearing Tim’s sweater, had the look of a man that had seen war and knew the cost of telling Jack to piss off. Timothy, whose frantic little bunny heart had stopped and started again so many times in the last half hour he honestly didn’t have the energy to be upset Jack had invited himself along for the date Tim was pretty sure he almost died from three heart attacks and suffered an existential crisis just working up the balls to ask for. 

Tim could survive this, he was strong. 

Right?  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm like, stressing myself out by writing timtams. you know when you draw and you start to make a weird expression to mimic what ur doodling? it's like that but tim's FRANTIC LITTLE HEARTBEATS ARE RAISING MY BLOOD PRESSURE. 
> 
> and does anyone know the name of that food jack's talking about? i had it once and haven't been able to figure out what it's called. like, was it even rice? maybe it was noodles? shit. 
> 
> i need to know 'cause i WANNA EAT IT AGAIN


	6. Chapter 6

Jack sat between Rhys and Tim on the couch, carved pineapple bowl balanced on his lap as he alternated between sips of expensive beer and shoving fried rice in his mouth. Rhys kept complaining about the stray grain of rice or two that tumbled free of Jack’s fork and disappeared in the couch or rug every now and then. Jack would face him head on, eyes locked with Rhys’s in challenge as he purposefully chomped more messily, spilling food down over his vest and lap. Rhys looked away sharply when Jack started smacking and chewing open mouthed, the omega chugging the last quarter of his beer before going for a fresh one. On Jack’s left sat Tim who wasn’t doing much better, the guy was slowly working through a bowl of melting vanilla ice cream as he kept an eye bouncing between the horror flick on TV and the cleaning embargo crisis developing on the other half of the couch. 

Things had calmed down immensely since getting back to Rhys’s apartment. Both alphas immediately mellowed by the omega scent soaking every inch of the space, their baser instinct to grow hostile towards a competing alpha absent as both registered one another’s scent as their own. That was likely one of the more important factors for why Timothy had survived Jack’s employment and company for so many years, never quite registering as a threat on the CEO’s radar. Not that Jack would ever hurt his Timmers. Well, he wouldn’t just do it randomly; he wasn’t that kind of guy! If Jack had to take his double out of the game it would be Tim’s own fault for dicking up somewhere along the line. 

Jack thought that was fair and what a good fair guy would do. Who else bought expensive ass food and alcohol for his favorite lackeys? Fresh food on a space station was a real bitch to find, the process of importing ingredients up to Helios so costly that the majority of the population ate so much rehydrated and imitation crap they’d probably permanently sent their sense of taste off balance. Tilting the pineapple near his mouth Jack scraped the last bit of food past his lips and groaned, pleased as punch and patting his full belly. Rhys snorted at the display, retrieving the dirty dishes and bustling them to the kitchen, leaving Jack to yawn lazily and look to Tim for entertainment. The double stared wide eyed, pausing with the spoon poised in front of his parted lips. 

Jack frowned. 

The ice cream melted a bit, overflowing the spoon and dripping back into the bowl before Tim snapped out of it and shoved the melty vanilla in his mouth. Jack wasn’t surprised to hear a gag and sputtering coughs when Tim accidentally nudged the spoon too far back in his throat and hit his gag reflex, unintentionally inhaling a bit of the sweet liquid. 

He worried about Tim sometimes. 

The omega came wandering back a moment later. “I’m going to take a shower. Please don’t do…” Rhys looked between the two Handsome Jacks, then around his apartment, “…anything bizarre.”

“ _Pfffbblllt_ , what, no invitation? Thought this was a date,” Jack grumbled, stretching out his legs over the coffee table and lacing his fingers behind his head. Rhys made a face like he wanted to say something but Tim coughed again, subtly shaking his head. Rhys sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“Maybe some other time. There’s a bathroom down the hall if either of you want to use it. Tim can show you, Jack,” Rhys said as he left, already slipping out of his jacket that Jack had dirtied up with blood from some unlucky corporate spy. Jack threw an arm around Tim yanking him to his side, grinning with every pointed canine in his mouth and peering down at Timothy with smug, half lidded eyes. 

“You can show me the bathroom, huh? Sounds like you ah, are pretty _intimate_ with the floor plan. Know a lot about the place. Spent some _quality time_ here. Or is it just that bathroom, hmm?” Jack gave him a shake, “ _Hmm?_ ”

Tim pulled a confused frown. Why was Jack leering at him? Was there a reason he was making the crazy eyes? “Uhhh, I guess?”

Jack’s face fell, already bored by the non reaction. “Whatever. I need to take a leak. Or shower, there’s shit in my hair. Give me the tour hot stuff.” Tim followed through with the request, finding the linen closet and digging out a washcloth, towel, and robe for his boss while Jack stripped out of his nasty clothes and cranked on the shower. Setting the bundle on the counter Tim slunk off to likewise find clothes that weren’t bloody and finish his neglected ice cream. 

Meanwhile Jack was picking through all the fancy products Rhys had set out in the guest shower cabin. It was incredible, honestly, just about the fruitiest thing Jack had ever seen. A lemon and sugar exfoliating soap bar, a bottle of honey and coconut shampoo and matching body wash, a rose and sandalwood conditioner, and just so much more girly shit. Jack poked through the collection lining the cabin as he scrubbed a lathered washcloth over his junk. The blueberry lemonade bubble bath looked and smelled promising but Jack was quickly distracted by the orange and apricot scented face scrub. 

“Jesus, ‘m I supposed to eat this shit or something?” he mumbled, honestly tempted to take a taste of the brown sugar and cookie dough body scrubs. It was obvious Rhys had a problem. He could only imagine what the kid’s shower looked like, probably like a library but with bottles. And one of those dildos with the suction cups slapped on the tiled wall. 

Yeah, definitely had to be one in there.

Jack only finished his bathing after smelling every bottle and picking out only the best. By the time Jack swaggered from the bathroom all decked out in a massively fluffy banana yellow bathrobe, a tide of steam billowing out after him as he left the bathroom. Tim and Rhys were at the couch, Rhys just setting aside a handheld vacuum cleaner and Tim helping straighten up the pillows. 

“Holy balls, champ! You have got a condition, phew, I mean I’d be embarrassed for you but egh,” Jack shrugged, “that’s kind of not surprising me now that I think about it.” He ignored the confusion on Rhys’s dumbass face and instead sat on the far left cushion, spreading his arms along the back and letting his knees flop open so wide it was only by the grace of god his package wasn’t all out in everyone’s face. 

Rhys made a small sound of understanding when he picked up the new additions to Jack’s scent. Taking a seat Rhys inspected the bouquet, realizing Jack had gone for the shampoo with mango butter, coconut milk conditioner, and the lemon sugar soap. 

“Something you like, peach cobbler?” Jack leered, obnoxiously giving Rhys a once over. The kid had changed into a black tank top and gray sweat pants. Not exactly the best night wear Jack had ever seen.

“Never call me that again. I was just thinking all the sweet fragrances are an odd combination with your own,” Rhys shrugged. “Not bad, though.” Jack just snorted in answer, noting that Rhys was back to his fresh smelling mint and citrus self. Timothy sat on Rhys’s other side, self consciously pulling on the lapels of the cardigan he wore. It was obviously Rhys’s, too snug around the shoulders. Jack had to admit it wasn’t a bad look, the garment unable to close around the broadness of Tim’s chest exposing a hand’s width of tanned and hairy flesh that ended at the tight, low slung sweat pants no doubt also scavenged from Rhys’s stupid large closet. 

Jack frowned, looking straight forward at the shitty horror sequel none of them were paying attention to. Well, those thoughts were a little gay. Not like, _dude_ gay, but alpha on alpha gay. No, wait, also dude gay. Tim was a dude no matter how much he acted like a princess. Shit. He hadn’t had alpha gay thoughts since Nisha. Why was he thinking of good ol’ Timtams like that? Jack’s frown deepened. Did any of this even count as gay or was it some kind of kinky masturbatory thing? Jack looked down at his crotch. How gay could it be if he wasn’t sporting a chub?

The answer came in the form a breathy laugh to his right. Tim mumbled an apology as he readjusted in his seat, blushing visibly where the mask didn’t cover and pulling his arm back from where he had been leaning on his elbow on the back of the couch. 

“Sorry. Keep forgetting how ticklish you are,” Timothy mumbled. Jack could barely hear the words, his double’s voice pitched low as the tide. The intimacy of it irked Jack for reasons he wasn’t quite able to pin down, as if he were intruding on the two just for overhearing. Rhys shook his head, smiling at Tim in that gentle and indulgent way that Jack never saw directed at him. Jack figured it was over then, this stupid moment that was making his skin crawl, but Rhys was cupping Tim’s face and running a gentle mechanical thumb across a cheekbone. Tim sighed, melting into the petting and emitting a purr, eyes closing when Rhys slid his fingers back over Timothy’s neck and stroking up through his hair. 

That was it.

The gayest thing Jack had ever seen. 

And he was man enough to admit he wanted in on it. 

Slouching forward Jack draped himself over Rhys’s back, forcing the lither man to hunch under his weight and looping his arms around that slim waist. Resting his chin on the kid’s shoulder Jack was reminded of how good he smelled and how ripe he was. Jack shimmied forward until he was just about suction cupped to Rhys, taking down deep breaths of the calming scent. 

Jack had never been fond of the mood manipulation omega pheromones were capable of and by principle rarely hung around omegas. He liked keeping a clear head on things and if it weren’t for the fact betas were incapable of knotting he’d have been damn jealous of their immunity to pheromones. It hadn’t been until taking Rhys on as his PA that Jack had spent so much time with an omega and learned to appreciate the cheat code an omega scent could be. Jack never had to play games or guess if Rhys was upset about something because he could just smell it in Rhys’s scent, and then there was the way those pheromones acted as a balm to the ever restless nature of an alpha. Hell, the best sleep he ever got were the times he’d stolen naps in the office while Rhys was there. 

Which, there was an idea.

“I’m tired, doll. When’s this sleep over hitting the hay?” Jack mumbled, eyes shut as he pressed his cheek into Rhys’s. The younger man stilled, he and Tim exchanging a look.

“Uh, you’re…staying the night?” Rhys’s voice cracked. Timothy broke out in a sweat.

“What? Don’t want Handsome Jack hanging around you ladies?” Jack growled, eyes snapping open and making Timothy jump. “Too good for the king, baby?” he tightened around Rhys like a douchebag boa constrictor. 

So of course Rhys laughed it off in a high pitched voice and quickly denied any of that. While moving to the bedroom Tim experienced a moment of crisis where he considered just pulling up stakes and ditching Rhys and his boss, but then he thought about leaving his omega alone with another alpha and just… just really wasn’t down for that. He sort of trusted Jack to be good to Rhys any other day but he kept thinking back to how Jack looked covered in blood earlier that afternoon and how bizarrely needy he’d been since. With a sigh Tim trotted after them into the bedroom. 

“I call middle,” Jack declared, executing a run and jump maneuver and landing with a bounce at the center. Messily kicking back the covers Jack picked up on traces of himself, well actually Tim, already dusting the fabric that was heavy in omega. Nice, he basically already belonged. 

Rhys wasn’t about to argue, already too weirded out that his murderous assface of a boss was demanding a sleep over. Despite the whole engaged thing Rhys and Jack really didn’t have a physical relationship besides patronizing hair ruffling and an arm thrown over his shoulders every now and then, so the idea he was going to be pressed up against Jack for a few hours was kind of freaking him out. Behind him Tim pouted, experiencing a similar state of do not want, but added to that was a grouchy little sprig of jealousy that he wasn’t going to get to cuddle Rhys. God, he hoped Jack wouldn’t do anything weird to him in the night. He seemed like the type to give surprise purple nurples for the hell of it. 

So with a healthy amount of reluctance both men sidled into bed around Jack. Once everyone was finished settling in and Rhys had his cybernetic arm and the lights off Tim felt Jack wriggling around and occasionally hitting him with a stray elbow before a wad of cloth was chucked out from the blankets. Jack’s robe. 

Timothy squeezed his eyes shut. Be strong.

# …

Jack was the last one awake. Lying on his back he stared straight up at the ceiling, arms lying at his sides where both bedmates had likewise glued themselves in their sleep. Rhys had been the first to roll into him, hooking his arm around Jack’s belly and pillowed his cheek on Jack’s pec. Timothy wasn’t doing any better, face buried in Jack’s neck and thick arm firmly secured across Jack’s shoulders. All their legs were tangled together too mixed up for it to be clear who was who. Rhys’s warm breath felt nice over his bare chest in the cool room, his dick twitching when Rhys nuzzled in his sleepy obliviousness over Jack’s stiff nipple. 

The kid smelled fucking awesome in his sleep. One thousand percent the happy little omega the media made the endotype out to be, and if it weren’t for Jack’s stubbornness to stay awake and study the situation the kid’s scent would have knocked him out like Nyquil.  
Timtams hadn’t been so resistant and was utterly out, occasionally making Jack jolt by sticking just the tip of his tongue out and leaving a wet spot on the CEO’s throat. That and the sleepy roll of the double’s hips and his obvious half chub against Jack’s thigh were a bit unexpected. Not that it should be. Jack was hot shit; everyone wanted a piece of Handsome friggin’ Jack.

And that was it. 

Jack wasn’t feeling flattered. That weird bubbly champagne feeling in his chest was just heartburn from the Thai food. He only repositioned to wrap both his arms around Rhys and Tim to get comfortable. Definitely not to pull both men more firmly around him until he was sandwiched and warm and both sleeping men were snuggling in deeper and unconsciously scenting Jack’s contented pheromones. 

Definitely not.

Because that would be _gay_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jack is a mega gay pass it on


	7. Chapter 7

Rhys kept fidgeting; shifting in his seat, rubbing his eyes, stirring his coffee, just looking for any excuse to move around the office. Jack would have been more annoyed if he weren’t feeling so kickass and rested from their sleepover, that and the little fantasies said sleepover had spurred on in the older man’s head. Things like what it would be like to always wake up content and satisfied between two warm bodies or how nice Rhys and Tim looked all blushing and intimidated by Jack’s jumbo morning wood. 

Because they _totally were intimidated_. 

Shame he’d had to forgo taking care if it in favor of getting to the office so he wouldn’t miss his boring ass meeting with the department heads. As it was he barely listened in on a conference call, throwing in his two cents every now and then while doodling on a notepad. 

“…I believe that concludes our business,” one of the other smarmy ass wipes on the call contended. A rippling murmur of agreement went through every participant as they waited for Jack to officially call the meeting to a close. It took a few seconds, Jack hyper focused on the fire spewing penis he’d been drawing, but he eventually told everyone to piss off and not cock up their jobs anymore or he’d airlock their dumb asses. Really motivational stuff right there.

Rhys chose that moment to stumble in his pacing around, yelping as a heeled boot slipped out from under him on the stairs and he dropped to his ass sending a tablet clattering. Jack leaned over his desk, chin balanced in his palm. 

“You alright down there sugar pie?”

Rhys looked over his shoulder at Jack, sniffling and eyes red rimmed, the picture of misery. Jack’s shoulders stiffened. Oh man. Oh no. He hated crying, shit, what the frick was he supposed to say here. “Uh, you cryin’ there?” Perfect.

“ _No_ ,” Rhys snapped, vaulting to his feet and hurriedly scrubbing his eyes as he gathered the dropped tablet. Okay so now the kid was lying to Jack’s face. Wasn’t that nice. Oh wait! No it wasn’t. As a firm believer in nipping stupid shit in the bud Jack stood and snapped his fingers, whistling like one would to call a dog. Glowering but obedient Rhys came to stand at Jack’s side though he kept his misty eyes cast down. 

“Wanna tell me what’s got your panties all wedged up your ass crack?” 

Rhys huffed. He was probably aiming for exasperated but it came out like one of those stuttering hiccupping sob breaths. So he was going to be a stubborn lil’ shit about this, fine, whatever. Grumbling, Jack crowded up into Rhys’s personal bubble, fisting a handful of the kid’s sweater when he tried to step away. 

“Seriously I’m fine – “

“Shut yer trap for five friggin’ seconds here.” Jack took a few deep draws of Rhys’s scent and sure enough there were a few fat unhappy markers flavoring up the air. Stress and the spiking flood of hormones indicative of an omega in pre heat. So nothing unusual or unexpected, Rhys was just being a hormonal brat. 

“If you need to take off early I ain’t gonna stop ya, kitten,” Jack attempted to be gentle and caring in his tone, so he felt the crackling snarl and bared teeth Rhys presented him with were all a little unfair. 

“I can do my fucking job. I’m not a useless omega bitch,” Rhys barked, snapping teeth and clawing at where Jack held his sweater. Okay so now the kid was projecting and thinking irrationally. Super.

“Did I say any of that crap? Hint hint, no I shittin’ didn’t! Jesus, calm down,” Jack switched his grip up so he was holding Rhys’s biceps, the CEO’s brow furrowing as Rhys continued to thrash around and bite like a piranha out of water. Yeah, so this was all definitely part of the weird hormonal levels omegas went through, pissy and sad then vicious as dicks all in one sitting. Just the mix in his scent had Jack’s hackles starting to rise, his inborn desire to dominate and force the omega into subordination blooming hard and fast in his gut. When Rhys’s stupid boot knocked into Jack’s calf the alpha didn’t hesitate to wrench the kid around, slamming him face down onto his desk and pinning both arms into the small of Rhys’s back. The wriggling increased tenfold, Rhys’s instincts flaring up over any sense he had as he snarled and spat. There wasn’t much that could be done for the kid in this state but wait it out and keep Rhys from hurting himself so Jack lay across the thinner man’s body, using his own weight to keep him in check. 

Which would have done the trick if Rhys didn’t start up his thrashing again, bucking his hips and his stupid godlike ass back against Jack’s cock. Their positions didn’t help either, Jack’s nose just above Rhys’s flushed and perfumed bonding site. His dick hardened so quick Jack saw black spots, Rhys shrieking incoherently at the pressure to his backside even his stupid animalistic brain could understand. 

“Baby I’mma need you to chill the crap out before we do something stupid,” Jack grit out between bared fangs, eyes crossing when Rhys lifted his hips and spread his legs. The arousal flooding Rhys’s scent wasn’t helping Jack’s dick calm down. 

“ _Hooohmigawd_ please please _please baby_ , Daddy need you to snap out of this shit or – “

“Stop fucking talking and fucking fuck me!” Rhys screeched, looking over his shoulder with one wild blue eye and yup. 

Jack just about came in his pants. 

Okay. So this was a pre heat flare up. Okay. Jack was an alpha, a freaking _alpha’s alpha_. He could help an omega through a flare up. He was the master at sex, just really good at it in general and in all forms. 

That he had frozen over top of Rhys, head blanking out long enough to elicit an impatient shriek from the man under him, really had nothing to do with nerves or, like, anything retarded like that. 

“A – are ya,” Jack swallowed, throat suddenly super dry, “are you sure cupcake?” 

“ _Jack!_ ” Rhys barked with unbridled impatience, eyes rolling and lips parted as he sucked in ragged breaths. Without a word Jack leaned back, fumbling hands tearing open his belt and popping the button on his pants as he nearly broke his fly whipping his dick out. Rhys was squirming, hips impatiently rubbing against the desk in search of friction as he pawed at the glossy top, pushing papers and tablets every which way. Jack hooked his arms under Rhys’s hips, lifting just enough to get a handle on his belt and just about snap the leather in his desperation to work it open and yank the fabric down to mid thigh to expose an ass he’d only ever seen in his dreams. 

Jack squinted against the beauty before him, momentarily blinded, dick twitching high against his belly in a salute to the gods that had a hand in sculpting the perfection of Rhys’s ass. Two firm scoops of vanilla ice cream, tinted rosy with the barest blush. It was immaculate, not meant for human eyes. 

“Jack I swear to god!” Rhys screamed into the desk. 

“Right! Sorry,” Jack palmed Rhys’s ass, slipping his fingers to press against what he assumed would be a small little hole that would need to be lovingly worked open with patience and virtue for a half hour before they could move on to the fun stuff. What he found was, just, way fucking better in all honestly. Rhys was already wet, sticky and slick and keening as Jack easily slipped two fingers in. Unsatisfied, Rhys continued to writhe, muttering angry words and gasping on the occasional sob as tears gathered in his eyes. Jack noticed, slowing his touches and fearing he’d been a little too rough. He was not prepared for the metal hand slapping hard around his wrist, the guttural snarl, and his hand being shoved down hard until he was knuckle deep in the kid’s ass. 

“Pick. Up. The. _Pace_ ,” Rhys spat darkly, giving a warning squeeze to Jack’s wrist before releasing him. 

Jack choked on his own spit. 

Pulling his fingers free with a satisfying wet sound Jack used his wet fingers to slick his cock, taking a moment to gather his control. Not because he was about to blow his load. That would be stupid. He just wanted to be able to control his desire to wreck that tight little ass. Yes. For sure. 

With a guiding hand on his dick Jack pressed himself into Rhys, pupils blown wide as he stared at where their bodies melted together. Holy shit. It was finally happening. Rhys puffed a shaky pleased breath, humming when Jack slipped his hands around to hook his slim hips. Still pushing in slow as ever Jack released a shuddering breath when he finally, finally bottomed out, taking a moment to control his breathing and collect himself. Rhys gave him a squeeze, snickering drunkenly at the strangled shriek Jack gave in turn. 

“Okay, you listen here you ungrateful – “ Jack wheezed, voice high pitched and sweat beading his brow. Rhys just snorted, blush addled face turning to press into the cool desk as he pushed back against his boss’s hips. Jack made a garbled sound, falling forward and bracing himself on his elbows around Rhys with his forehead resting between the younger man’s shoulder blades. 

He could do this. 

This was fine. 

Sucking down a steadying breath Jack pulled back and rolled forward, the movement long and slow and steady as it eased into another and another. Rhys purred, the sound heavy in his chest and more comforting for Jack’s state of mind and confidence in his technique than he thought anything could be. Encouraged, Jack gradually quickened his pace, Rhys beginning to make little whimpers as he grew wetter. The kid’s slickness was insanely excessive, the warm liquid spread to wet his cheeks and drip down his and Jack’s balls. The damp slapping of skin filling the office and making Jack’s ears flush red as he bit his lip and felt his cock throb deep in Rhys. 

Fuck. 

_ShitCrapAssMotherDicker_.

He was not about to come from this gentle ass vanilla sex. Not yet. Wrapping himself firmly around the omega Jack picked up speed, sinking his teeth into the fabric of Rhys’s sweater out of instinct as a low growling started in his throat. Rhys moaned in kind, hands gripping the far edge of the desk as Jack lengthened his strokes, pulling out until only his head remained in before ramming forward and knocking the breath out of his omega. Panting through bared fangs Jack kept his teeth clenched in the sweater fabric, feeling a coil of low burning warmth at the bottom of his belly that he really, really thought would take a bit longer to show up. He wasn’t going to nut first though, absolutely refused. Jack slipped his hands around to Rhys’s front. One rough palm came to cup the kid’s balls, rolling the soft weight as he wrapped a firm hand around Rhys’s cock. 

Jack was satisfied, maybe even a little flattered with how goddamn wet the kid’s prick was. Just soaked in precum and rock hard, twitching madly in Jack’s grip. What a fucking chump, already about to pop off after so little. Continuing his thrusts Jack ran his wet hands over the omega’s junk, squeezing and twisting his wrists, swiping a thumb over the pretty pink head even as he pressed his own cock in harder and harder. It was getting more difficult the closer he got to finishing, his pace suffering as sweat dampened his clothes and that growl started to tear up his throat. He didn’t realize what the fuck it was until Rhys squealed, legs spreading wide as he moaned into his own shoulder and stared back at Jack with the most miserable and tortured expression he’d ever fucking seen. 

“ _Please_ ,” Rhys choked, the word wrecked on a sob.

Oh shit. 

Jack was about to knot. 

“B-baby I’dunno if that’s the best –“

“Jack I will _fucking rip your dick off!_ ”

Aaand that did it. 

His knot swelled too fast, catching against Rhys and resisting as Jack desperately tried to push in. He emitted his own horrified whine, eyes watering and chest constricting at the thought that he’d messed up and he wouldn’t be able to sit deep and locked in Rhys’s cute ass. It was Rhys whose vicious backwards thrust finally locked them together with a wet pop and Rhys’s own juddering cry. Between Jack’s big hands Rhys’s cock bounced and flooded with finish, thick creamy liquid soaking down and dripping over the CEO’s hands and their interconnected bodies. All at once both men were hit with a flood of primal satisfaction, their bodies going slack until they were two boneless piles on the desk. 

Rhys sighed, eyes shut and mouth open and drooling while Jack’s cock throbbed inside him. The knot was thick and sturdy, solidly wedging the two together. 

“How, how long do…” Rhys did his best to form a coherent sentence but was clearly still heat drunk and the wet flood of alpha cum filling him every few minutes wasn’t going to help his lucidity. It didn’t matter, Jack understood the question.

“I’m usually forty-five minutes or so,” he rasped, spitting out the slightly torn sweater and carefully pulling Rhys back, mindful of their connection, until they were both seated in Jack’s chair and their legs stretched out over the desk. Rhys nodded, content to flop back against his alpha while Jack cradled and sniffed the sated omega. 

He smelled…different after sex. Or maybe it was the knotting, whatever it was the kid smelled richer. It was him but distilled down into a hormonal cocktail. Weird. Jack recalled omegas often did that, got all weird smelling after a knot. He always took it as a sign he’d done well, that his dick was so fucking stellar it could influence a person’s hormonal mix. Smirking he settled back and cradled Rhys, happy to shut his eyes for a few minutes and let his schlong take care of business. 

Rhys woke when he felt Jack patting his cheek. The omega grumbled, shifting enough to feel they were no longer anchored to one another. 

“Wakey wakey,” Jack sing songed earning a grimace from the omega. “Time to get up, sweet pea, Daddy’s gotta get back to work.”

“Nooo,” Rhys complained even as Jack got them both to their feet, fixing their clothes. Rhys’s face crumpled at the slight distance between them, trying to push back into the alpha’s space only for a hand to meet his chest and hold him back. 

“F’real, cinnamon sugar, cut the cuddlin’ crap for a bit, alright?” Jack asked, tone not unkind. “I can’t just lie around all day ya know, this place will fall apart.” Every word hit Rhys at a hard angle, making him flinch back and cower at the dismissal. Jack wasn’t paying attention, already cleaning off his hands with some wet wipes and setting about straightening his desk and forgetting Rhys’s presence entirely. 

“I, I think I’m going to go home,” Rhys choked, legs trembling as the space between he and Jack seemed to grow and harden. He waited for some form of acknowledgement, numb fingers worrying the hem of his sweater. Jack glanced up, barely looking at Rhys as he shrugged. 

“Yeah, sure thing.”

Rhys still waited, unsure at the traffic jam of confusing directions his hindbrain flooded through his thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t need me for…anything?”

“Jesus, yes, I’m fine!” Jack said, rolling his eyes and missing Rhys’s wince. “I kinda ran this company before you showed up to fetch my coffee; I’ll survive you taking the day off.”

That was about all Rhys could take. With a nod he left the office, passing Meg without a word and heading to the elevators. The further he got from the alpha the worse he felt, his mood and mindset dropping like a rock until he was slouched entirely against the wall of the elevator cabin and sniffling. God, this was why he’d done his best not to sleep with Jack, this was why. Jack didn’t want Rhys around, had told him explicitly to stop that needy tactile behavior, and now Rhys was two seconds away from breaking down in a public elevator. Focusing and doing his best to keep the tears at bay until he could reach his apartment and have a proper pity party, Rhys barely managed to fumble through his ECHOeye interface, selecting a contact and initiating a call. He needed help; he needed someone to take care of him. 

Rhys didn’t want to be alone. 

Opening his palm display Rhys hiccupped, burying his teeth in his lip as he waited for the call to pick up. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Timothy’s voice registered before the video feed popped up showing the double with messy hair lounging on a couch. Rhys tried to answer but all that came out of his mouth was a high pitched whine. The display blurred, Tim sitting up with concern writ all over his face. 

“Rhys? What’s wrong?”

The omega shook his head, tears spilling over his cheeks before he could smudge them away. “C-can you come get me?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Tim was up throwing on his shoes and out the door, his image blurred as he jogged down the hall before jerking to a stop. “Uh, can you tell me where you are?”

# …

Timothy was a pretty level headed guy. 

He’d dealt with too much weird shit, too many insane people to let most things bother him.

That said,

Timothy was fucking pissed. 

Jack had knot and dropped Rhys.

Tim had found Rhys hiccupping and sobbing alone in a hallway, the omega’s nose and eyes rubbed pink and scent heavy with drop. Timothy had taken him to his penthouse, too pissed to even think straight and consider that Rhys might be more comfortable at his own apartment. There he’d undressed Rhys down to his underclothes, unresisting when Rhys tugged at Tim’s own t-shirt and mumbled little complaints. Tim didn’t have the heart to withstand those sounds and helped Rhys pull on one of Tim’s shirts. Tucking the omega into his bed Timothy hurried to the kitchen, yanking on his hair as he tried to figure out why he didn’t own any nice food and who he could blame for his shitty bachelor lifestyle. When he heard Rhys’s cracked voice calling his name in just the most pathetic way Tim grabbed a container of frosted cookies and jug of milk before sprinting back to bed. 

If Tim had been there the moment the omega drop started he could have stymied the worst of it. Unfortunately for Rhys the damage had already been done by the time Tim had found him and what should have been an hour or so of sleepy cuddling was now going to be an evening of constant aftercare before Rhys was stable again. 

“I wanna bath,” Rhys sighed into Tim’s chest. “Feel gross.”

“Sure, sure, let me go run one.” Tim scooted out from under Rhys only for a cybernetic fist to twist up hard into the hem of his pants. He blinked, staring down at it. “Um…”

“Uh! Sorry,” Rhys was quick to retrieve his hand, blush flooding his tear streaked cheeks. Tim waited, something at the back of his head telling him that was more significant than the omega was letting on. Oh wait, duh. Shifting to lean over the guy, one arm braced on the other side of his hip, Tim gently pressed his forehead to Rhys’s.

“I’m not leaving, just going to the bathroom. I’ll be right here the whole time,” he assured. Rhys blinked, fresh embarrassed tears glistening on his lashes. Hesitantly, Rhys lifted his hands to cup Tim’s cheeks, fingertips cold and trembling along the edges of the mask. Timothy waited, unsure what was – oh they were kissing. He wasn’t sure who closed the space, but suddenly Tim’s world narrowed down into the gentle points of contact between their bodies. 

Rhys’s lips were wet and warm, tongue slipping softly against Timothy’s. He tasted like the cookies they’d shared, so overly sweet with vanilla and sugar and all Tim wanted in the world was more. Tilting his head for a better angle the alpha pressed down, upper body meeting Rhys’s as he kissed and tasted more of the incredibly sweet thing sharing his bed. They hardly parted for breaths; Rhys gasping and pulling Tim down with hunger and passion and just as much want as Tim felt. Tim didn't have much experience but Rhys didn't seem to care, arms sliding around the broader man's shoulders as he opened his mouth further and welcomed Tim's slow exploration. It was grounding, warm flavors and happy scents filling the cracks in the omega's confidence. Breaking apart Tim peppered licks and pressed his wet lips along Rhys’s throat, savoring the occasional watery laugh.

“Oh boy,” Timothy giggled, face bright red where it remained hidden in Rhys’s neck, “that was really…that was nice.”

“Yeah,” Rhys agreed warmly. “Take the bath with me?”

Tim ended up in the tub with Rhys draped over his chest, the omega fast asleep after sharing a glass of soft and fruity red wine. It was the cheap stuff that Tim had developed a taste for in college, the kind that left him feeling homesick for a time and place he couldn’t quite remember anymore. Rhys had insisted on washing himself off in a quick rinse before lounging in a tub of fresh bath-bubbled water with Tim, obviously a cleanly person with high standards for his own hygiene. Tim didn’t mind, actually surprised he wasn’t sporting a massive hard on and experiencing another bathroom crisis brought around by Rhys’s nudity. 

This whole thing, this situation and whatever was happening between himself and Rhys, all of it was unexpected. God, it was embarrassing how hard and fast he’d fallen for the guy. He didn’t ask any questions about what had happened to Rhys to put him in this state, he could guess. Rhys’s scent was too rich in certain elements, hinting at a heat flare. Rhys spent most of his time with Jack so what followed when Rhys fell into a flare was obvious, and the fact that Jack was a goddamn moron who didn’t understand the concept of omega drop it was pretty clear what happened. 

Timothy was honestly surprised by how defensive and protective he’d already become over Rhys, so worked up over the omega that he was to the point where he knew the moment Rhys was okay to be on his own Timothy was going to do something stupid. 

He was going to confront Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tim is sweet and domestic and gentle smooches have made him v powerful. Jack is a turbo loser that's gonna get a talkin to next chap
> 
> also today's my bday (6/18 for anyone reading this in the future). Hit up my tumblr and drop a prompt in my ask if ur feeeln generous, cuz I live for that shit even if it takes a billion years for me to get to em 
> 
> n thank u for ur comments, i am enamored w u shit lords and ur reactions to this stupid fic, it makes working so much easier when i have ur crazy ass comments to read


	8. Chapter 8

Turns out Tim didn’t have to do much yelling.

Once he got through Jack’s wall of sarcastic self defense and explained what had actually happened to Rhys the CEO looked nearly regretful. It was weird and made Timothy uncomfortable and a bit vindicated on about a million levels to see the guilt on Jack’s face and the bizarre ashamed way he kept asking if Rhys was alright. Tim thought about the emotionally drained lump he’d left snoring in his bed before coming after Jack, deciding it might be better for his boss to send a contrite message for now and wait until tomorrow to get to the real meat and potatoes of a true apology. 

“They don’t do any other weird crap like drops do they?” Jack was slouched over his desk, head hanging in his hands. 

“Omegas? Well, no? I don’t think so. Their moods shift depending on their physical state. Like, ah, he isn’t but if Rhys were pregnant and unbonded he’d be inconsolable. Evolutionary history points to unbonded omegas being the most burdensome in a community, after their children. In times of scarcity that means they’re the first to be… _removed_.” Tim tried to remember his anthropology classes. Jack leaned back sharply, clearly stricken by that information. 

“That’s why they’re all so touchy and weird when knocked up? Christ, people are fucking animals.”

Tim wisely kept his mouth shut. 

“Yeaaah, there’s so much focus on bonding for them because it alleviates a bunch of issues they face. Heats are shorter and easier, pregnancy is a breeze, even the drop doesn’t impact them so badly. Just, evolution has proven it’s safer to be bonded so that’s…why, I guess.” Tim shrugged; actually a bit proud he’d recalled so much information. Not that any of it was hard to find, it was just most of the population knew that knot and dropping was a douche behavior but not exactly why it was a factor in omegas to begin with. 

Then there was Jack who, despite all the relationships he’d run through in his life, was still a clueless dork about most common things. Did he just forget? Like, it wasn’t actually possible to live in the modern age and not have encountered some form of education on these issues. 

“If it helps, Rhys isn’t mad at you,” Tim admitted, shifting from one foot to the other. “I think he’s more upset with himself to be honest.”

“Wow! Boy, Timtams, you ever think about getting in on the therapy business? Because phew, _wow_. Really making me feel great over here!” Jack barked out. 

“I’m just saying Rhys knew you didn’t know what you were doing,” Tim tried again, once more stepping on the landmine that was Jack’s fragile sex ego. “Oh god, come on you know I didn’t mean it like that!” Before their bickering could escalate further Jack’s ECHO rang, both men glaring down at the device. The moment the caller ID showed the name _Pumpkin Butt_ Jack slapped the call answer and set it on speaker. 

“Baby? You okay?” Jack asked, Tim moving behind him to peer down at the display feed. Rhys was sitting up in Tim’s bed, wearing Tim’s shirt, and swamped in puffy pillows and blankets. He looked exhausted, rubbing his eye with the hand that wasn’t performing the call. 

“Mmyeah. Tim tell you what’s up?” Rhys didn’t sound mad, which was good. He actually seemed vaguely out of it, clearly fresh out of a deep mind wiping sleep. Jack nodded. Rhys gave a thumbs up in response. 

“So, yeah. Um, it’s no big deal. It happens,” Rhys shrugged, shyly glancing away. Tim felt something twist in his chest, suddenly craving nothing else but Rhys. He wanted to curl up around Rhys, bury the both of them under a mountain of blankets and just sleep the day away. He just looked so small and vulnerable and Tim needed to be there for his ma-

 _Ohhh_ lord. 

_Oh no_. 

Tim felt his gut ice over. He’d almost said it. Almost used the _M_ word. Crap. _Crap, crap, crap_. Tim folded his arms; trembling hands tucked up in his armpits as a ringing filled his ears and drowned out the stilted awkward apology Jack was trying to give Rhys. Timothy knew he wanted more out of his and Rhys’s relationship, which was ridiculously obvious in every kind of way, but seriously? He was already acting like a hot headed possessive alpha dickhead that prematurely lusted for a bond? This was super embarrassing.

Super embarrassing and kind of depressing. How long had Tim known Rhys now? A week, two? There was no way forming a bond with Rhys would be a good idea yet. But then again, Rhys did look good in all of Tim’s clothes. And when Tim offered to take Rhys back to the omega’s apartment after the worst of the drop had passed Rhys had glared at him from where he’d nested in Tim’s pillows. Which, okay again, the nesting thing? The same thing pregnant omegas did when they were full of pups and being adorable and smelling like candy and warm blankets for their mates? For def not helping Tim’s chill.

“ –tams. Timmers!” Jack shouted, scaring a jolt out of the double. Tim returned to the moment and found both Jack and Rhys watching him, Jack wild eyed and frozen in place and Rhys with a dreamy little smile. The mere sight of it had Tim’s expression melting into something dopey. Whatever was happening it was bad enough to snap Jack back into action and he spun around, slamming the call end button before shooting to his feet and getting in Tim’s face. 

“What the shit’s going on here?!” Jack said, voice oddly high pitched and strained. Tim blinked, frowning and tilting his head to the side. Jack slapped a palm to his own forehead, shouldering past Tim to stand in front of the window overlooking Elpis. “You’re really - _oh, oh mih gawd_ , you don’t know.” Jack dragged a hand down his face. 

“Kiddo, you’re _purring_.”

Now that he pointed it out Tim felt the pleased rumble living in his chest. With a choke he clapped a hand to his chest, coughing until the happy sound stuttered out and he was left out of breath and blushing like a virgin. It appeared the damage had already been done, Jack now tearing at his hair and pacing in tight circuits before the window, inconsolable. 

“It’s not that big a deal..?” Tim said tentatively. Sure it was embarrassing as all get out that he was caught purring but it happened to everyone! Jack whirled on him, suddenly across the room and somehow towering over Timothy despite their same heights. 

“Not a big deal, _not a big deal?_ You wanna run that by me again kiddo? I know what that stupid gooey look on your face means,” he jabbed a finger in Tim’s chest. Timothy leaned far enough back that his eyes wouldn’t cross while trying to look Jack in the eye. 

“Look on my face?”

“It’s my face!” Jack shouted, “I know what those stupid smiles and crap mean. _You_ ,” he crowded further into Tim. 

“ _Want_.” They were chest to chest.

“ _To_.” Jack clamped his hands on Tim’s shoulders.

“ _Bond. Him_ ,” he finished in a quiet little snarl, fingers digging in hard. 

Timothy had some options here. First of course there was denying these allegations. Though with his face just a few inches from Jack’s pissy bared fangs that didn’t seem like the best plan. He could go for broke and admit that yes, Tim was having ever more frequent and detailed fantasies about making a proper omega out of Rhys. Which would have been a far easier admission if Jack wasn’t looking at him with hellfire in his eyes and they weren’t both standing in a room that still had the scent of fucked and knotted omega soaking the air. 

The omega Tim wanted to bond.

And Jack’s knot. 

Right, okay, time to be defensive then. 

“So what if I do? What’s the problem?” Tim deflected. It almost seemed to catch Jack off guard, the other alpha dropping his grip on Tim and backing off, confusion furrowing his brows. 

“He’s my fiancé.”

“Rhys is your PA. You both agreed you’re not actually engaged.”

“And you’re my friggin’ body double! Mine!”

“What does that even mean in this context?”

“I dunno, it’s weird. It’s just weird! You’re me!” Jack balked, as if that were reason enough. 

“I’m not – that doesn’t matter here. I like Rhys, he’s,” his brain to mouth communication line stuttered, “really great.”

“Know what else is great? Pizza. Doesn’t mean I’m about to give up all other food just so I can eat that crap everyday.” 

“But I love pizza,” Tim whispered. Jack reared back as if that were a slap to the face. Realizing he’d already dug himself into a hole and didn’t care how much deeper it went, Tim continued. 

“I, I don’t know how pizza feels about me but if he felt the same I’d bond him in a second.”

“Well it isn’t gonna happen, sweet cheeks, so _drop it_ ,” Jack growled, the furious sound not unlike crackling firewood. Tim felt his breath catch, his nose twitching at the fury marking the air. On Jack the scent of anger burned like a bee sting, acidic and earthy and hot asphalt. That alone tipped Tim off that something was wrong here, or not so wrong as it was going unsaid. 

“Jack there’s no reason for you to be like this unless, unless…” Tim came to a dead stop, realization cracking his eyes wide open and leaving him a slack jawed. Jack in turn stiffened, a metallic twang of fear noting his fragrance. It wasn’t fear directed at Tim, but at what had just clicked in both men’s heads. 

“No.” Jack denied. “Absolutely not.” 

“You don’t want us to bond because – “

“TimTams I will kick your cute ass off this space station – “

“You don’t want to be alone.”

# …

While these and other shenanigans took place in Jack’s office the omega in question was a little grumpy he’d been hung up on. Now that he was awake there wasn’t much else for him to do. He and Tim had already eaten and bathed and Rhys had just woken from his nap so he couldn’t pass the time with more sleep. Hunkering back down into his nest Rhys checked his schedule using his ECHOeye, noting he was two days out from his heat. 

“Great,” he sighed. It was nice not having to go through an agency this time around or having to ask a friend or coworker to take care of him but the entire thing was still a bit embarrassing. Rhys still had to rely on someone else for his sense of security and peace of mind, something that was at complete odds with the independent omega’s lifestyle. And yet it was an annoyance every omega learned to deal with. Rhys was actually excited about having Timothy for the day. Even if the alpha was a poor lover, Rhys hoped not but shit happens, it didn’t diminish Rhys’s confidence in partnering with Tim for a heat. Hell, just the amount of care and tenderness Timothy had shown in helping Rhys out through the drop was enough to assure Rhys he was going to be a happy omega come heat day. 

Reaching over his shoulder Rhys touched the swollen gland at the base of his neck, the lightest feather weight tap sending a spark shooting down his spine. He grimaced at the attention on the sensitive spot and its patch of fever high temperature. Pulling his hand back Rhys sniffed his fingertips, picking up on his own scent in its most potent expression. It wasn’t bad, he’d certainly smelled worse, but whatever it was that drove alphas wild was lost on him. 

Rhys puttered around on his palm display after that, playing what games he had downloaded and hitting up the net. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard Tim slinking through the door, cheeks flushed and a dazed look stickered to his face. Shutting off his display Rhys sat up, batting away pillows and blankets and chirping a greeting to the alpha. 

“Everything go well?” Rhys asked, scooting to the edge of the bed where Tim had flopped down. He received a breathy bewildered laugh in response before Tim fell back and stared at the ceiling with a wonderstruck light in his eyes. 

“Yeah. You could say that,” Tim said mostly to himself. Rhys quirked an eyebrow at the weird behavior, running his fingers through Timothy’s hair and subtly scenting him. He was certainly more strongly scented than usual, masculine and thickly potent with his own pheromones, a familiar pungent note of spilled seed coloring his fragrance. That was…odd. But Rhys wasn’t detecting anyone else on Tim, so he let it go and figured Tim had just pleasured himself again for one reason or another. Tim shifted until he was looking up at Rhys. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Rhys snorted at his timidity, “go for it.”

“How do you feel about Jack?”

Rhys had spent the better part of the day trying to figure out the answer to that very question. “Jack’s got his own charms. I used to idolize the guy before I started working directly with him and that kind of, uh.” Rhys’s nose scrunched in thought. “You know how people who work in food service usually go through a period of being kind of put off by food in general? Like the veil was lifted and suddenly I was able to see Jack had flaws and stuff.”

“Don’t meet your heroes?” Tim supplied. Rhys gave him a praising pet. 

“Exactly. I know he’s got his own issues and isn’t beyond criticism. Well he sort of is I guess,” Rhys thought out loud.

“The airlocking habit,” Tim agreed. 

“But with all that I still care about him,” Rhys admitted. “Even though he knot and dropped me there were points where he tried to calm me down but I kept antagonizing him. It wasn’t solely his fault.”

“But, but is there anything,” Tim was blushing again and noticeably not looking in Rhys’s direction, “anything like, _else_?” 

“You mean..? What, exactly?”

Tim groaned, clapping big hands over his face. “Do you care about him as more than a friend or whatever?”

“Okay. So, that’s a loaded question,” Rhys mumbled, anxiously petting Tim more for his own benefit than the alpha’s at this point. “I can’t say I don’t but Jack’s never really, um, _reciprocated_. He’s married to his work which is fine and all but that doesn’t really leave room for…anyone else.” This was mega awkward and honestly bumming Rhys out. He, like most human beings, did not like being reminded of his own failed unrequited loves. That it was Tim who was asking all these questions, a guy Rhys was bizarrely attached to after knowing for such a short period, was only making the situation more unbearable.

Tim startled Rhys by grabbing his mechanical wrist with both hands and dragging their combined hold to his chest, assaulting Rhys with big beautiful kitten eyes. “What if that’s not the entirety of it, though? Maybe Jack’s just not in touch with his feelings, doesn’t know how to properly express – or really understand them?”

That…was a valid theory. Maybe if the situation didn’t involve Rhys and something he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge Tim hinting at Rhys would have entertained the notion further. Instead he shut down, shaking his head retrieving his hand from Tim’s grip. 

“If that’s the issue then I doubt someone like me could help solve it.”

“What if I helped?”

Rhys’s mouth opened and closed, confusion twisting his features. Tim was up on his knees in a flash, big hands cupping Rhys’s neck and coarse thumbs petting the omega’s cheeks. There wasn’t a word exchanged but instead a look rich in meaning. Suddenly Rhys understood why Tim smelled the way he did in that moment, why he’d been in Jack’s office so long and the reason he’d been torturing Rhys with this uncomfortable conversation. Stilted, with no lack of hesitation, Rhys nodded. Agreeing to something that didn’t need to be said and at once he was barreled over by a Timothy bullet of affection, the alpha’s purr snapping into life with abandon as he snuggled Rhys into the sheets.

Rhys snorted, completely flattened under the alpha’s happy wriggling weight. “So we’re doing this?”

Tim crawled up over him enough to nuzzle cheeks with the slighter man, “yup. It’ll make him happy.”

Well. Rhys supposed that settled it.

Operation seduce Handsome Jack was go. 

Technically it was already started. 

But like, details. 

Whatever. 

The point was Rhys and Tim were gunning for Jack's emotional chastity and were gonna wreck the guy up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw jack and tim totally banged and it was like the gayest thing ever. 
> 
> while rhys and tim are talking jack's taking a shower in his penthouse and doing that thousand yard stare as he comes to understand he's a queer lord. 
> 
> holy shit like this is the gayest thing i've ever written holy hell y'all. next chap will pick back up w the action and ought to be the last installment in this stupid ass fic, things will reach a fever pitch and end on a dad joke, just like how jack wouldve wanted. bless his homo heart


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A SUPER SECRET BONUS CHAPTER UPDATE WHERE I LET Y'ALL IN ON WHAT WENT DOWN BETWEEN TIM AND JACK LAST CHAPTER

##### AN: This chap takes place during Chapter 8 where Tim confronts Jack in his office. Enjoy, you goddamn sinful children.

Tim’s back crashed into the window and Jack’s mouth was on him. He cried out in surprise, fingers latching onto Jack’s shoulders out of reflex as the alpha bit him hard on the shoulder, his scent whiplashing from near fear back to anger only this time it came accented with arousal. 

“Whoa, hey, come on let’s take this slo – _Oh_ , okay, that’s my special spot,” Tim squeaked, knees trembling as Jack sucked and nibbled just behind his ear. Jack puffed a hot breath that was probably a laugh, hands already moving under Tim’s clothes and spreading warm rough palms over Tim’s firm abdomen. He groaned, pulling back and looking over Tim’s panting form, the double flush from his ears down to his chest. 

“Ohhh yeah. This is a good idea. We’re totally hot,” Jack agreed with himself, hands travelling up Tim’s chest to give his pecs a squeeze. Tim yelped, expression warping into a totally violated look that only had the CEO chuckling as he forced the cloth up over Tim’s head and arms, throwing the garments to the ground and giving his double’s chest an admiring look.

“Already revved up, doll?” Jack asked, thumb flicking over one of Tim’s stiff nipples. 

“N-no! It’s cold in here,” Tim huffed, trying to sidestep where he was trapped against the window. Jack was having none of it, yanking off his own top layers and plastering himself all over Tim until they were flush against one another and Jack’s arms were braced against the glass around Tim’s head. 

“Mm, better keep ourselves warm then, huh?” Jack snickered. Tim groaned but gave up on his squirming as Jack continued to pet and stroke Tim’s olive skin, slipping thick fingers down past his waistband and giving his firm rear a squeeze that certainly did not have Tim making any squeaky noises. Jack mouthed Tim’s skin, murmuring occasional little praises that Tim was half sure were self congratulatory in nature, and lowered to take the offending nipple into his mouth. Tim definitely made a series of loud embarrassing squeaky noises as Jack’s teeth teased and pulled on his nipple, his tongue flicking the stiff flesh before soothing away the sting with wet sloppy kisses. Not until Jack’s tongue slid a stripe over the curve of Tim’s hip did it occur to Tim that Jack was on his knees.

In front of Timothy.

Nuzzling his treasure trail and working at Tim’s belt. 

_Oh shit oh god this was happening. It was happening?_

He closed his eyes and counted to ten before opening them again when he felt his belt pop open, the button and fly being undone after.

Nope, definitely happening. 

“So, ah,” Jack cleared his throat as he kneeled face to cock with Tim’s junk. “Just gonna put a dick in my mouth. Yup.” Jack licked his lips, shuffling a bit to get more comfortable. Slowly he leaned forward, lips parted and the tip of his pink tongue shining as it blanketed his bottom lip. Tim bit his own lip, thighs spread to give the other more access and his hands shaking at his sides as he stared down at Jack, unable to tear his eyes away as Jack braced his hands on Tim’s thighs. Jack leaned in, then, “yanno this is really way more intimidating than I thought it’d be. Like, I knew I was big but having it right in front of my face it’s looking damn near jumbo – “

Tim grabbed two handfuls of Jack’s hair and yanked him forward, stuffing Jack’s mouth with his cock and making him choke on whatever he’d been about to say. 

And a dick.

Jack recovered quickly, glaring up at Tim and giving the weighty length in his mouth the lightest drag of his teeth, sending a fearful thrill up through Tim’s frame. Planting his hands on Tim’s hips Jack pulled back until only the glans rested warm and flushed in his mouth. Sealing his lips against the ridge of the head Jack brushed his tongue up along the slit, painting his tongue in the semi bitter precum. Abruptly and with a pop Jack pulled off Tim, shaking his head and pulling a sour face. 

“Whoa, seriously? That’s what that crap tastes like? Blugh, gross. How do people face knot without upchucking all over the place?” Jack asked. Tim eased his fingers from Jack’s hair, doing his best to hide his disappointment. 

“Face knot?” he asked as he helped Jack back up to his feet, privately smirking at how the older man griped about his knees going stiff. 

“Yeah, never heard of it huh? It’s a blow job but ya knot in your partner’s mouth, pump your load down their throat for the better part of an hour and slide out, leaves your honey’s belly all swollen with jizz. Seems cute,” Jack explained nonchalantly. The concept was fresh to Tim and incredibly dirty, so naturally he felt his dick flex at the idea. Maybe he’d have to explore this weird kinky concept later.

Who was he kidding he was gonna do it for sure. 

With a box of tissues and bottle of lotion for company. 

“Okay, babe, I’m gonna need you to sit your handsome ass down on the lounge over there,” Jack flapped a hand towards the office sitting area while he rummaged around in his desk, slamming open drawers and tossing shit out of his way as he looked for goodies. Figuring Jack was looking for lube Tim headed over and flopped down on the couch, wriggling out of the rest of his clothes. Jack scared the shit out of him by vaulting over the back of the couch, straddling Tim’s thighs and grinning with all fangs. And he was nude. Well it wasn’t like Jack wasn’t efficient. Rocking his hips and getting situated, Jack’s confidence didn’t waver until he looked down at Tim’s red member lying hard over the double’s stomach. The steam whooshed out of Jack all at once.

“That’s a biggun,” Jack mumbled, his entire demeanor soaked in second thoughts. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Tim did his best to sound comforting but seriously again? He was going to die of blue balls before Jack decided what they were going to do here. 

“Yeah,” Jack swallowed, apple of his throat bobbing as he continued to stare down at Tim’s dick. “I could wreck you some other way for sure. And this is pretty gay anyways.” 

Timothy wanted to scream. _Gay? Seriously?_ “You just had my dick in your mouth!”

“Yeah but like everyone has a mouth, that doesn’t even count,” Jack blabbed. 

“Everyone has an ass too!”

Clearly this was throwing a curveball to Jack’s _Not Gay_ understanding of the world, something Jack was going to need a moment to chew over. Tim didn’t have time for that or whatever insane conclusion Jack was going to come to. Lifting up his legs Tim raised his thighs and tipped Jack forward. The CEO grunted in surprise, pitching forward and knocking his chest into Tim’s where he was immediately caged by the double’s arm. 

“What the shit are you doin’ cupcake?” Jack snapped, moving as if he could get away only to still when he felt his and Tim’s dicks grind. With his free hand Tim snatched the bottle of lube and snapped open the cap with his thumb, messily upending the bottle over his hand. Jack griped, not really trying to escape Tim’s hold but putting up enough resistance to remind everyone how much of a bitchy princess he was. Twisting his head to look at what Tim was up to Jack stilled, eyes widening as clear oily liquid dribbled off Tim’s knuckles and dripped to the floor. 

“What, ah, what are ya up to over there kitten?” 

“Just let me take care of you,” Tim lifted his hips and by association Jack’s and curled his fingers through the cleft of Jack’s ass. Jack jumped, sucking in a sharp breath against Tim’s ear and clenching his fists into the couch cushions. Tim continued to stroke Jack, testing light presses against Jack’s tight hole. 

“C’mon, I’m not going to hurt you,” Tim rubbed Jack’s back with the hand holding his boss in place. “I need you to relax for me.” Tim was patience incarnate as he waited for Jack to get comfortable, consciously building a purr in his chest to help lull Jack. It was working, slowly, Jack gradually growing more lax. At least a half hour of purrs, kisses, and gentle nuzzling and Jack was draped boneless over Tim. 

“Y’know maybe I should do this fingering the ass open thing myself,” Jack said. Tim shrugged, jostling the man on his chest a bit with the motion. 

“You could. It would be more work for you though,” Tim pointed out. Jack was quiet for a moment. 

“That’s a compelling argument for having you do this.”

So Tim got to work. 

Jack was a grumpy priss about it, complaining that it felt weird and bitching for Tim to slow down and _what the hell was he adding another finger for?_ But Tim was strong and patient and had Jack prepped despite his annoying behavior. When he pulled his fingers free Jack took the cue and sat up, holding the back of the couch with one hand to keep his balance as he straddled Tim’s hips. 

“You’re looking a little deflated there buddy,” Jack quirked an eyebrow down at Tim’s half mast member. 

“Help a guy out?” Tim asked, laughing at how stupid this situation was. Jack groaned, rolling his eyes and gripping his double’s cock. 

“Christ, gotta do everything else myself,” Jack complained as he stroked Tim back to hardness, adding his other hand to massage Tim’s balls with a little too much roughness. “I’m letting you know now that when we get this started if I don’t like what’s going down I will not hesitate to punch your handsome face in the face.”

Tim squeaked at a particularly hard stroke, a thumb pressing against his glans like a detonation trigger, “noted!”

Satisfied with that answer Jack sat forward and guided Tim to his entrance, stopping to take a few nervous breaths, and carefully pressed down. Both alphas gasped, identical blunt fingers digging into each other’s skin while they spat tiny curses. Jack growled hard, his eyes clenched shut as he stubbornly kept going against the sting and stretch. Beneath him Tim choked, eyes blown wide and lips parted as he reached for his partner desperately seeking something to hold on to. His hands found Jack’s, fingers threading into a tight hold that Jack found he could lean his weight on to keep himself steady. Tim breathed quickly, throat and chest flush as his toes curled against the couch cushions and did his best not to explode when Jack finally seated fully on his lap. 

“ _Oh boy_ ,” Tim's voice cracked.

“Y-yup,” Jack agreed.

“Are you okay?” Tim did his best to be mindful of his partner but from the way his teeth were grinding and voice squeaked it was clear the guy was two seconds from blowing his load. 

Jack snorted, chuckling with genuine bewilderment. “I have a dick up my ass. Huh.”

“Uh huh,” Tim wheezed. 

“Like, I don’t know, thought it would feel different. Obviously it feels frikkin’ weird as hell but I mean on a like, spiritual level.” Jack considered, head tilted as he bounced lightly, experimenting with a few shallow rolls and grinds. 

“Whaddya mean?” Tim was really focusing on not coming. 

“Thought it’d feel more gay.”

“What does gay even feel like?” Tim moaned miserably, tossing his head back as Jack gave Tim’s cock a squeeze. 

“Dunno. Aren’t you pretty queer? You should probably know this shit,” Jack said, sitting up and pulling up high enough until only Tim’s cockhead remained inside before dropping back to his lap with a slap.

Tim jerked, hips stuttering up as his breath cut out for a heart beat too long. “D-do that again please!” He didn’t need to ask as Jack had just had his prostate stimulated for the first time in his life and was currently experiencing the choir of heaven’s pearly gates singing in his ears, his eyes glistening with the epiphany that butt stuff was way more fucking stellar than he had been prepared to deal with. 

Finally, finally at the end of his bountiful patience Tim pushed up with his hips, bracing his feet on the couch’s armrest and setting a steady pace. Jack was quick to meet his thrusts, eyes blown wide and panting at the firecracker of sensation every stroke to his prostate brought. 

“Why _haah_ – haven’t we done this before?” Jack panted. 

Tim gave a set of sharper thrusts, “the gay thing.”

Jack made a considering sound that was uneven from his bouncing. 

It didn’t take very long for Jack to crash over the edge and drench he and Tim’s stomachs in cum, Tim following suit just from the sight and knowledge that he’d been the one to wreck Jack like that. Jack collapsed against his front, gasping and panting hot breaths over Tim’s sweat sticky skin. Then Jack stiffened, reaching back and flopping a hand back around his rump. 

“Did you just friggin’ knot me?” Jack whispered. 

“Uh…is that bad?” Tim was too blissed out to feel proper fear. 

“Fuck.” Jack grew uncharacteristically silent after that. He didn’t try to move off of Tim or pull them apart, didn’t actually move much at all. Any attempt of Timothy’s to crane his neck and catch a glimpse of his boss’s face were unsuccessful. So he did what he thought was best and relaxed back into the cushions, smiling at the pleasant pressure on his knot and the sporadic throb and pulse of cum stirring his cock and filling Jack. About a half hour of silence and fluffy foamy dopamine addled headspace passed before Tim’s knot receded and the two alphas were no longer connected. Awkwardly, with stiff muscles and tacky half dried seed messing him, Jack rolled off and got to his feet. His surprised grunt drew Tim’s sleepy eyes to where Jack’s fingers were pressed against his ass and Tim’s gooey finish was dripping. 

“Gross, I didn’t even think about this crap!” Jack shouted, hobbling to the office’s bathroom. Tim snorted and got up to gather his clothes and redress, rinsing off in the sink by the coffee maker. Was that unsanitary? Probably. Straightening out his jacket Tim knocked his knuckles on the bathroom door, smiling at the irritable grumbling piping in from the other side. 

“What?!” 

“You need anything?” Tim called.

“Some freaking privacy!”

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna head out then,” Tim checked his ECHO, “call me if you think of anything.”

“ _Oh my god just get out of here!_ Shit how the craps do you get dried jizz out of chest hair.”

Tim left with a lopsided smile on his flushed face. That wasn’t bad. Tim could strike getting with Jack as well as sleeping with an alpha off his bucket list. 

_Wait._

Tim came to a full stop just outside the office, sirens going off in his head. 

He’d just slept with his boss. 

Jack had totally just bottomed the fuck out of Tim.

What the fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i hate them.


	10. Chapter 10

This was it. 

The big day. 

Game day.

Heat day.

And Jack was sniffing through a paper trail hunting down embezzlers. 

Occasionally he’d look up from his work, a half formed request for more coffee or stupid joke on his tongue, only for the words to snuff out when he saw his PA’s desk was missing a beanpole. It wasn’t so unlike every other one of Rhys’s days off. Jack was used to it even. He could make it. He did every other time the omega had to forgo work to take care of nature’s prerogative. That he kept checking his phone or catching himself staring at the empty desk was just because he was lacking sleep and zoning out. 

It was an hour after lunch before he caved and shot off a message to Tim asking how things were going. It was natural to want to know if his stupid PA was being treated well by his dumbass doppelganger. He definitely was getting work done and not just staring down at the words on the tablet, tapping his shoe incessantly, and waiting for an answer. At the blip of a received message Jack snatched up his comm and read over the message. 

_HJ: hows it goin ? ??_

_Second Handsomest: gr8! rhys is askn 4 u_

Jack’s hands clenched over his comm, the device creaking under the pressure. Rhys was asking for him while heated, despite the total cock up that had been the flare. Sweat dotted Jack’s brow as he stared unseeing into the middle distance. Tim was probably doing a fine job of looking after the omega; not as good a job as Jack could be doing but fine enough. Tim had to take care of Rhys on his own.

Because Jack had to work. 

He couldn’t afford taking a day off.

Or taking an extended lunch break. 

Nope.

He was the CEO.

Big man on campus.

_Second Handsomest: *image attached*_

Jack had never opened a picture attachment so fast in his goddamn life. 

It was a blurry unprofessional shot of Tim and Rhys in bed, the angle tilted and blurry with movement. Rhys lay over Tim, cheek pressed into Tim’s chest hair and a dopey smile on the omega’s face that could only be matched by the sated happy smile on the double’s face. The picture alone was enough to tighten up Jack’s trousers. Then there was the following text.

_Second Handsomest: he wnts both our knots_

Handsome Jack was up and out the door, his chair knocked over and skittering across the office as he hauled ass for Rhys’s apartment.

# …

“You think he’s gonna take the bait?” Tim asked, setting his ECHO on the nightstand. Rhys scoffed, rocking his hips and tugging on Tim’s knot until the alpha went cross eyed and gripped the omega’s rump to keep him still. 

“Of course.” His brow furrowed as he sat up, bracing his hands on Tim’s chest and idly grinding over Tim’s hips. They really should have come up with a better plan to get Jack into their shared bed but Rhys’s ass had been a major distraction. “If he weren’t he’d have sent a dick joke by now.”

“Nnn – _aaah thaaa_ – haht’s a good point,” Timothy wheezed as he felt another spurt of finish spill into Rhys. “Can you calm down for a minute though? I need a break.” 

That had Rhys chuckling but he elected to take pity on the poor over bred alpha and lay down over him. Tim sighed a quiet word of thanks before covering Rhys in sweet little kisses and tender licks, finding Rhys’s lips and slipping his tongue in to slide along Rhys’s. It was how most of the day had been spent since Rhys had woken up wet and hard and a total mess. Tim had stayed over the night before, prepping a few small meals and snacks to make things easier and he’d been quick on the uptake in tending to Rhys. 

Tim had been disconnected from Rhys for ten minutes or so when they heard the front door crash open. Both lounged against one another, watching lazily as a series of thuds and crashes and swears sprinkled through the apartment until the bedroom door flew open and there stood Jack. He’d somehow already lost his blazer, shoes and socks, and barely paused to take in the sight on the bed before tearing out of the rest of his clothing. 

“I take it you found the place alright?” Rhys deadpanned, grinning at the annoyed look Jack tossed his way. 

“You. Shut it,” Jack whipped off his slacks and wasted no time pouncing on the pair on the bed, smothering squeals and breathy laughter with growly smooches and his broad frame.

“Oh my god get your giant fat ass off me!” Rhys laughed, shoving at Jack’s shoulders. The alpha leaned back, frowning at the wiggling mess trying to escape from under him.

“He been a pretty princess like this all day?” Jack asked. Rhys squawked.

“Yup,” Tim smiled as Rhys made an indignant sound. 

“ _Rude._ ”

“Looks like we’re gonna hafta take care of that attitude, huh?” Jack grinned, dipping down to lick up the side of Rhys’s face. 

“Jack! Gross!”

“Looks that way,” Tim agreed. With matching conspiratorial smirks Tim and Jack lunged for Rhys, wrestling the giggling mess of omega until all three were kneeling and Rhys was sandwiched between both alpha’s chests facing Tim. Jack wasted no time burying his nose in the fevered bonding site, breathing in opened mouth and licking the moist and fragrant skin. Rhys shuddered, mewling and throwing his arms around Tim’s shoulders, fervently kissing Tim as Jack’s rough hands descended to massage Rhys’s ass. There his fingers dipped into the dripping mix of wetness and Tim’s finish that leaked slowly from the omega, the stickiness spreading over Jack’s hands sending a shiver up his back and raising excited gooseflesh over his bare arms. 

If either alpha had a brain cell left unaffected by the heated omega’s pheromones they would have been surprised at how unaffected they were by each other. Their shared scents didn’t register as a threat but as their own, eliminating the aggressive predatory nature that usually blossomed at another alpha’s presence in the company of a heated omega. As it were both men were too busy warming up the omega between them, Jack’s thick fingers slipping with ease into Rhys’s already sloppy hole while Tim slid a slicked fist over Rhys’s strained red cock. 

Tim shook his head as he kissed over Rhys’s port. Omegas and their refractory periods were just goddamn insane. Not that alphas couldn’t get wild and keep up but it took a heated omega’s scent to send some alphas into a rut, an additional bond for most. Timothy’s grip tightened by mistake, eliciting a squeak out of Rhys that Tim was quick to apologize for in kisses and gentle nips. He really needed to get bonding out of his head, like yesterday. 

“Bit of a loose slut aren’tchya Rhysie?” Jack asked through grit teeth, pulling free four fingers that were soaked in slick. Rhys made a rumbling sound but otherwise didn’t respond, nostrils pressed flat to Tim’s throat as he greedily drank in the male’s scent. “Whaddya think, TimTams? Our pretty boy wet enough to take us both?”

Tim’s eyes crossed, his breath hitching and enough blood draining so quickly into to his filling cock that he saw black spots. He looked over Rhys’s shoulder, cheeks a violent red as he licked his dry lips and met Jack’s eyes. “Can we?”

In answer Jack reached around their omega, gripping Tim’s biceps and pulling him forward hard to a hungry kiss full of teeth and bitten lips. Rhys hummed between them, pleasantly pressed between his alphas and thoughtlessly rolling his hips between the two filling cocks. Jack and Tim popped apart with a gasp, Jack administering what were definitely not needy nips and licks to Tim’s lips and jaw line. 

“I’ll kick your asses if you don’t,” Rhys interrupted their affections, flesh hand fumbling down between them and trying to align Jack’s length with his entrance. Jack batted the helping hand aside and took himself in hand, blunt head kissing Rhys’s warm wet hole before pushing in with a thrust and groan. Both men moaned, Rhys’s eyes fluttering shut and Jack’s teeth clenching at the fluttering feel of Rhys. 

“Language,” Tim teased, petting Rhys’s hair and helping himself to pushing into the omega. With the press of his glans against Jack’s length, alongside Rhys’s twitching entrance, Tim had to take a heavy breath and wait until the tightness in his belly left before moving again. Jack was quick to wrap his hard arms around Rhys’s slim waist, anchoring him against his own chest to give Tim the room he needed. Rhys pawed at Tim’s shoulders, Tim bit down on half formed swears as he tried and failed to fill his mate, and Jack buried his teeth in Rhys’s shoulder to keep from making any of the weird sounds that kept wanting to sneak out of his mouth. 

“Timmy boy, I’m gonna need ya to hurry up over there,” Jack grunted, muffled against Rhys’s chemically addictive skin. 

“I – I can’t,” Tim whined, the picture of misery as he kept slipping off the point where Rhys and Jack sat joined. 

“I’m going to scream,” Rhys promised, eyes popping open wide, “if you don’t get inside me I’m going to scream and bite and – “

“Kitten, shut it for like two seconds here. Look, okay let’s try this.” With a grandiose slump Jack flopped back on the bed, slightly propped up by the mountain of expensive pillows. Rhys huffed, falling back against Jack and both men readjusted their legs until Tim was hunched between both their spread thighs. Cock in hand he tried one more time, head catching Rhys’s rim. Gasping at the near success Tim added his thumb, tugging at the muscle and making as much room for himself as possible. 

“Tim – “ Jack snarled in warning.

“I, almost – _there!_ ” Tim’s hips snapped forward with ferocity and all three cried out. 

“Holy fuck,” Jack wheezed, arms trembling where they held Rhys. The omega’s breathing was coming in a flurry of quick shallow pants while his pupils had blown wide until only the barest ring of color remained. Tim wasn’t doing much better, completely rigid where he lay blanketing them. Out of them all Jack was keeping the clearest head and even then his musings weren’t much better than rapid fire internal screaming intermixed with a reminder that he couldn’t nut yet because that would be super embarrassing and a huge fucking bummer like when else was he getting this opportunity agai-

Tim thrust and Jack’s eyes crossed while Rhys moaned. Rhys was so goddamn tight and throbbing, so wet that he was dripping down over Jack’s balls. It was intense, the glide and drag of every one of Tim’s shuddering thrusts slid along Jack’s own cock driving him up the orgasmic wall. 

In other words: Handsome Jack was about to blow his load. 

“Ahh hah aaa’m not gonna –“ Tim whined as Jack’s shallow pumps joined with his, absolutely obliterating him. Barely able to keep his eyes open, sweaty skin sliding against his partners’, Tim looked down at Rhys. The omega was jostled with every movement, bouncing and gasping as his tongue lolled openly and his entire body flushed bright pink. The omega took a series of deep breaths, blinking a fraction of the dreamy daze from his eyes as he raised his legs and squeezed Tim’s waist between his thighs. 

“Inside, inside,” Rhys nodded fervently as he begged. “ _Please please please inside_ , want you,” he sobbed, “both! Want both, both _please_.” Rhys ducked, licking a stripe from Tim’s clavicle to his jaw, and that was enough to break him. Tim’s hips snapped forward, crashing into Jack and burying deep into Rhys as he came. He loosed a sound something between a moan and howl as his knot blossomed deep in his omega and it was blinding. His vision went white, hips stuttering forward as if he could go any deeper and somewhere he registered Jack’s throaty roar and another flood of cum spilling with his own, pressure clenching against his knot and utterly locking him inside Rhys with Jack. 

When a semblance of his senses returned it was with the taste of blood on his tongue and Rhys’s warm sticky spill against his belly. Blinking, panting, Tim licked and found he was still latched onto wherever he’d bitten. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, lightly increasing and decreasing the pressure and licking away blood as he lay heavy and spent. The better part of a half hour must have passed before he fully opened his eyes, lucidity returning and realized what had happened. He reared back with a startled cry, knot jostling both his partners into mumbling tired complaints.

“I’m sorry!” Tim gasped, gut icing over and heart hammering as he stared with growing horror at the bright red bite overlapping Rhys’s bond site. The omega huffed, pulling an irritable face as he cracked open an eye.

“What?”

“I – bit the – uh!” Tim’s heart was having a full blown freak out as he tried not to faint while figuring out how to tell Rhys he’d gone and fucked up, betrayed the omega’s trust, done one of the worst possible thing a person could do and bonded an omega without their consent. 

“Simmer down pumpkin. I can feel your heartbeat in your knot,” Jack griped, blinking sleepily up at Tim with a mouth painted red.

Wait.

Oh _no_.

“Jack. D-did you..?” Tim couldn’t say it, could only weakly point at his own mouth then at Rhys’s neck. Jack squinted up at him, annoyance and confusion mixing up his face before he obscenely licked at his bloodied lips and all the color drained from his face. With one shared glance both alphas lurched forward and lifted up Rhys to get a better look, the omega grunting irritably and giving Tim’s chest hair a sour glare.

“Oh, oh my god,” Tim whispered, unconsciously holding Rhys closer until he was nearly suffocated in Tim’s pectoral muscle cleavage. 

“Well. Shit.” Jack wasn’t doing much better, just staring openly at the two identical bite marks both half overlapping the omega’s bonding site.

“ _Mrmrphgl_ ,” Rhys added his own two cents, smacking Tim’s bicep. He obliged the suffocating man, letting up on his grip until Rhys managed a thankful gasp of air. Sufficiently awake from his daze Rhys eased himself back against Jack who in turn automatically took to petting his sides and producing a low purr. At once Rhys got suspicious. There was nothing more obvious that an alpha had done fucked up than preemptive purring. 

“What happened?” Rhys asked, voice lowly. It would have been far more threatening if he wasn’t currently stuffed to the brim with knot, his belly already beginning to expand just a touch from both the men’s finish.

“Um, well,” Tim began, hefting himself up and bracing his hands on the pillows near Jack’s head in case the news had Rhys wanting blood. It wasn’t like he could really get away from an enraged omega, not while still tied like they were. “Things, uh, may have gotten out of hand.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, giving his lower half a little shimmy that had all of them biting their lips and moaning. “Yeah, I’ll say.”

“No, not that.”

“Then what?”

Jack’s purring tripled in strength.

Tim realized there was no easing into this. He’d just have to bite the bullet. “Jack and I may have sort have _bothbittenyourbondingsite_.”

“Nuh uh,” Rhys frowned, immediately in denial. When no one shouted about it being just a prank Rhys squirmed, flesh hand darting back and hitting Jack in the face in his rush to touch the gland. As soon as his fingers met the teeth marks his eyes blew open wide, flush complexion paling even further as he touched the second bite. “How… Is this even? Am I even bonded? What?”

It was Jack’s turn to step in and tried to defuse the situation, “kitten, try to calm down – “

“Fuck you!”

“Okay that’s fair but let’s put a pin in that topic for now. I read it’s easier to feel the bond if you’re calm, try it and tell us if anything’s different.” Rhys looked irritable but he didn’t have much in the ways of options so he flopped against Jack once more, eliciting a grunt from him, and closed his eyes. People talked about bonds like they were magic a lot so what it really was, what it really felt like, was something of a mystery for every unbonded omega. In all honesty Rhys thought it would have been a lot more obvious, a neon sign to his instincts, but if he could take two sturdy bites to the back of his neck and not feel it then there was apparently a lot a good orgasm could make him miss. 

“I don’t feel anything,” Rhys complained five minutes later.

“We’re gonna be here a while kiddo, take your time.”

Rhys wrinkled his nose. Such encouraging words. 

Initially there was nothing but a vaguely miffed sensation. He’d been bonded and he hadn’t even realized. Arguably one of the top two most important moments in an omega’s life and he’d been too busying jizzing himself to noticed. That was kind of fucked up. Rhys sneered at the thought. Great. He’d acted like a freaking animal. Just let the heat of the moment to get to him like that, ugh so lame. This was why he didn’t do relationships. And he hadn’t even lasted long, his stamina sucked. He should start jerking it more regularly to build up some tolerance.

Rhys frowned. That was all a bit…intense. Shaking his head he tried again, focusing on the bond. But he just couldn’t stop thinking about what a cock up this was! It wasn’t even romantic in the slightest, and he’d barely lasted at all and now everyone was mad and he was so sure this wouldn’t work out despite how badly he wanted this to work out and –

“Oh. Oh _fuck me_ ,” Rhys’s eyes snapped open, realization hitting him like a train. 

“On it,” Jack snickered. 

“What is it?” Timothy asked, anxious as ever. Rhys just shook his head, a burst of laughter escaping him at the absurdity of it all. 

“It’s both of you. You both bonded me,” Rhys snorted, rubbing his eyes. 

“That ain't possible, sweet cheeks, check again,” Jack said.

“I will have the damn labs check my pheromone signature but it happened and we’re all bonded you dick,” Rhys snapped, the rest of his tirade swallowed up by Tim’s lips as he was pressed into a kiss. The double pulled back all too soon, grin sunny and blush back in place.

“I’m sorry it happened like this but, well, also I’m not! We’re mates!” Tim beamed and before anyone could say another word he was back to stealing kisses between bouts of breathy laughter that was too damn cute not to be contagious. It didn’t take any time at all before Rhys was responding in kind with his own tender nips and licks. 

“Excuse me. Where are my kisses,” Jack deadpanned, eyes half lidded. He’d said it in a totally jokey manner, not in a way that was very obviously needy or because he wanted to be kissed because he was secretly relieved Tim and Rhys didn’t have a bond that would pair them off from him forever. Though he was pleased when both men over him turned and started to fill the deficit of smooches he’d been growing. 

At some point they each fell back into comfortable quiet, occasionally mumbling something or other that came to mind. It wasn’t until they’d broke apart, Jack and Tim’s knots finally gone, and Rhys had cleaned himself in the bathroom before returning, that the gravity of the situation hit Jack. 

“So. For life, huh?” he drawled, idly petting Tim’s hair. Rhys lay hugging Jack’s middle, cheek pillowed on his belly as the last bit of the heat left him exhausted and sleepy. 

“Mmhm,” Rhys nodded, or really just rubbed his cheek against Jack’s body hair. 

“Yeah,” Tim agreed from where he lay on Jack’s other side already half asleep from the fingers running over his scalp. 

“Well don’t you two sugarplums worry about a thing, daddy’s gonna take good care of ya.”

“Oh my gahwd stop calling yourself that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats it  
> thanks for reading and commenting and being generally cool kinky people
> 
> SEE YOU ON THE FLIP SIDE

**Author's Note:**

> oh yeah, shit, hit me up over on [tumblr](http://bigevilshine.tumblr.com) y'all


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